INTERNATIONAL COMMUNAL STUDIES ASSOCIATION Lessons and Perspectives.

INTERNATIONAL COMMUNAL STUDIES
ASSOCIATION
Communal living on the threshold of a new millennium:
Lessons and Perspectives.
Proceedings of the Seventh International Communal
Studies Conference.
June 25-27, 2001
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Editors of the Conference Proceedings
Programme committee
Sponsors
International Communal Studies Association
A word from the editors
Part 1
1.1 Communities across time
Pacifist Communes. Yaacov Oved
1.2 Communal Overview
Utopia Britannica. Chris Coates
Out to Save the World: Why Communal Studies Matters for the Twenty First Century.
Timothy Miller
1.3 Communal History
Interpreting the Oneida Community and its Legacy: Competing Agendas and Audiences.
Marlyn McGary Klee, Ph.D.
Kibbutz: From Idealism to Pragmatism. David Merron
Herrnhut, 1852-89: Australia’s German ‘Moravian’ Commune. Dr Bill Metcalf
1.4 New roles for community
Urbanization: The Catalyst Speeding Changes in the Kibbutz Family and in the Status of
Kibbutz Women. Dr. Gila Adar
Between opportunity and duty: A new role for alternative ideologies. René Hirsch
1.5 Relationships
Community Sustainability: The challenge of inter-generational change. Peter H Cock
Response to “The Family: A Free-Love Christian Commune” by Geraldo (Barney) Lourenco.
Abi Freeman
1.6 Communal Education
Young adults on Their Way to Future: Kibbutz, Studies and Profession. Arza Avrahami
1.7 The Future of the Kibbutz
New Boundaries – New Identity: The Influence of Structural Changes on Communal Societies
– The Case of the Kibbutz. Eli Avrahami
1.8 The Future of Community
Changing Our Vision of Nature: On the Threshold of a New Millennium. Nathan Batalion
Ecovillages: the intentional communities of the future. Lucilla Borio
Virtual Communities. Peter M. Forster
Co-housing: Bringing Communalism to ... the World? Graham Meltzer
1.9 Utopia
Experiments in living Arrangements as Human Development Strategies. Dr. Richard Coon
The Kibbutz: Awakening from Utopia. Daniel Gavron
1.10 Communal Sustainability
The Battle for Influence Between Communes and ‘Gated’ Communities: An Australian
Perspective. David Sprigg
Obstacles to creating new neighbourhood communities' in the UK. Martin Field
1.11 Arcosanti and Communal Living
Lessons from the Urban Laboratory at Arcosanti in Arizona. David Grierson
The Trouble with Autocratic Architecture: A critical and cocreative look at Paolo Soleri’s
Arcosanti Project. Doctress Neutopia
Part 2 - Communities
Camphill Ecovillages. Jan Martin Bang
NOYANA. Dorothee Bornath
Tamera – A Biotope for the Healing of both Humans and Nature. Janni Hentrich
Hellerau, Monte Verita and the Making of Modern Dance. Dr Sydney Norton PhD
The Meaning of Herrnhaag: An 18th century Moravian Community And The Hermitage, Its
21st Century Successor. Bros. Christian and Johannes Zinzendorf
Acknowledgements
Editors of the Conference Proceedings
Peter Forster, University of the South Pacific, Suva, Fiji
Graham Meltzer, Queensland University of Technology, Queensland, Australia
Programme Committee
Bill Metcalf, Griffith University, Queensland, Australia
Graham Meltzer, Queensland University of Technology, Queensland, Australia
Christa Falkenstein, ZEGG Community, Germany
Helen Best, Queensland Board of Senior Secondary School Studies, Australia
Sponsors
The ICSA Conference 2001 was held:
• in co-operation with Stiftung MITARBEIT, Stuttgart, Germany,
• supported by Stiftung SYNANON, Berlin, Germany,
• supported Griffith University, Australia,
• subsidised by Branderburgische Landeszentrale fur politische Bildung, and
• Stichting Onderzoek en Advies Groepskuisvesting (STOA), Rotterdam.
International Communal Studies Association
The International Communal Studies Association (ICSA) promotes the world-wide study of
communal groups of all kinds, including communes, kibbutzim, religious groups, ecovillages,
collective settlements, cohousing groups, housing co-operatives, etc. ICSA also promotes the
exchange of information between communal scholars and community members. ICSA functions
as a clearing house for research projects, encourages comparative studies, and maintains a list of
communal organisations and individuals active in communal research.
ICSA was founded in 1985 through collaboration between the Communal Studies Association, of
USA, and the Kibbutz Studies Centres, of Israel.
ICSA publishes a twice yearly Bulletin which is posted to all members. The ICSA web site is:
www.ic.org/icsa/ . ICSA has its headquarters at Yad Tabenkin Kibbutz Research Centre, Ramat
Efal, 52960, Israel (e-mail: [email protected]). Membership is (US)$25 per year for individuals,
and (US)$40 per year for institutions.
The Executive Director of ICSA is Professor Yaacov Oved, of Yad Tabenkin, Israel. The Board
of Directors of ICSA is: Dr Bill Metcalf, Australia; Dr Sonia Ramagen-Bloomfield, Brazil; Dr Uriel
Leviatan, Israel; Dr Saskia Poldervaart, The Netherlands; Professor Don Pitzer, USA; Dr Baruch
Kanari, Israel; Professor Tim Miller, USA (President); Dr Peter Forster, Fiji; Dr Gila Adar, Israel;
Professor Pearl Bartelt, USA; Dr Yuval Dror, Israel; Dr Schlomi Ravid, Israel; Albert Bates, USA;
Professor Menachim Rosner, Israel; Dr Graham Meltzer, Australia; Professor Max Stanton,
Hawai’i, Professor Dennis Hardy, United Kingdom; Dr Menachem Topel, Israel, Dr Daniel
Greenberg, USA; Dr Deborah Altus, USA and Mr Sol Etzioni, Israel.
While many ICSA members are academics from around the globe, many others are members of
communal groups. ICSA’s involvement in a wide range of communally related issues is determined
by its membership.
We invite you to join ICSA, the International Communal Studies Association, and to take part in
future activities, and to learn and contribute more to our understanding of the fascinating
communal living groups around the globe.
Dr Bill Metcalf
A word from the editors
The papers collected here were presented at the 7th conference of the International Communal
Studies Association (ICSA) at ZEGG, Belzig, Germany from the 25th to 27th June 2001.
They have not been through a selection or review process. Presenters who asked for their
papers to be included here have been included, as long as they were on the theme of the
conference. The content of papers represent the views of the authors themselves and not of
ICSA, ZEGG, nor the conference sponsors.
We have attempted to retain the original formatting of the authors, wherever possible,
although translations between word processing applications, platforms and media have
resulted in occasional lapses from this intent.
The decision to produce an eBook of the proceedings was motivated by a desire to make them
available to the widest possible audience at the lowest possible price and also to minimise the
cost to ICSA. This means that they have been produced by academics rather than book
publishers. Whether this is repeated for future conferences depends on how satisfying readers
and authors find the outcome.
This conference was the first held by ICSA within an intentional community. Comments by
both participants and presenters at the end of the conference were almost all positive. We
hope that some of this feeling comes through the collection of papers that follow.
Peter Forster and Graham Meltzer
A word from the president
This e-volume of the proceedings of the 2001 triennial conference of the International
Communal Studies Association provides a limited but tantalizing look at a few of the
thousands of intentional communities that represent a deep commitment to nothing less than
saving the planet - through environmentally sound living, the improvement of human
relationships, and showing the larger culture just what a positive future can look like.
The International Communal Studies Association is a multidisciplinary organization providing
a common framework for scholarly exchange regarding communes, intentional communities,
collective settlements and kibbutz throughout the world. The ICSA functions as a
clearinghouse for research projects, encourages comparative studies, and maintains a list of
communal organizations and individuals active in communal and kibbutz research. The
Association holds international and local conferences and publishes a semi-annual bulletin.
The ICSA is dedicated to the study, in an atmosphere of respect and support, of the world's
intentional communities in all their diversity. We invite scholars, practising communitarians,
and persons who are simply interested in the fascinating world of community to join us.
Check us out at http://www.ic.org/icsa/ or look for our conferences at
http://www.antenna.nl/icsa/ Our headquarters is at Yad Tabenkin Institute, Ramat Efal
52960, Israel. Our e-mail address is [email protected]
Timothy Miller
President, 2001-2004
Part 1
1.1 Communities across time
Pacifist Communes
Yaacov Oved
Yad Tabenkin, Israel
From 1939 to 1945 there was a hiatus in the formation process of communes. This was an
interim between two periods in the history of 20th century communes. Up to the outbreak of
World War Two, many communes had been established: some secular, like the kibbutzim in
Israel, and also some that were socialist, communist, or anarchist and also religious communes.
From the 60s onward came the flood tide of hippie communes and intentional communities
that were founded in the later decades of the last century.
The first new shoots of a communal renascence during World War Two sprouted in pacifist
circles of conscientious objectors (COs), who were held in detention camps in the countries
that formed the allied forces. In these pacifist circles one could find a desire to convey a
positive message at times of war and afterwards, that was expressed in an aspiration to lay
the foundations of communities of interpersonal peace, harmony and solidarity. This trend of
pacifist communes as evidence of an alternative way of life came to fruition in the United
States and its successes in founding enduring communities were greater. In the United States
pacifist conscientious objectors were detained in Civilian Public Service (CPS) camps where
they performed public works.
The varied attempts of the conscientious objectors to hold common activities in the camps
served to heighten the desire to co-ordinate these activities with the aim of becoming a public
movement after the war. At the end of the 40s, the pacifist conscientious objectors found in
the appearance of the communes one of the few ways in which they could constructively
continue to fulfil the ideals of fraternity and non-violence.
The new communal communities organized themselves into The Fellowship of Intentional
Communities that was the main focal point of communal activity in the
50s. The Fellowship numbered about a dozen communities, the majority of which had been
founded and run by pacifists. Two of these communities, Macedonia and Koinonia,
constituted the core of the Fellowship. They existed for a long period and there is a special
interest in their histories, for despite their common pacifist background their way was
different and in both the pacifist motivation to maintain a stable commune was evident.
Therefore I have chosen them as case studies.
Macedonia
In 1946 a pacifist group that had been formed in a CPS camp settled at Macedonia, Georgia.
The group was characterized by openness and tolerance towards different beliefs, and among
its members were also a number of atheists. The veteran members viewed the settlement as a
model of co-operation and tolerance designed to project its influence on the environment, and
they made efforts to convey their message outwards, beginning with their neighbors. They
encouraged mutual visits and took part in the local community’s festivities and attended the
local church, albeit with only few results. The problem in the early years was to lay economic
foundations for their subsistence.
In 1946 they commenced production of wooden toys and furniture for educational
institutions. By 1952 their economic consolidation got under way with the increased
production and profitability of the toy factory that was called Community Playthings. In the
same year they invited Henrick Infield, a sociologist who studied co-operation, to conduct a
sociometric study of the commune in order to evaluate their development. Infield’s study
showed a high degree of satisfaction and esprit de corps within the group, and according to his
findings. Macedonia was in good economic and social shape.
A short time after the conclusion of the sociometric study, a dramatic turnaround took place
in the life of the community that radically changed the atmosphere. In the autumn of 1952 the
settlement was beset by a number of setbacks. In October the main building that served as
living quarters and the community center burned to the ground, leaving them without a dining
room, kitchen, kindergarten, library and music losses. At the same time there was an outbreak
of jaundice that laid low the majority of the members for a prolonged period. From an
economic standpoint, this was a very hard year and these difficulties not only lowered morale
but also caused a number of central members to leave. Some of those who remained hoped to
find a cure for their ills by seeking a new common belief that would give meaning to their lives.
At the end of 1953 there was a kind of religious revival that led them to seek contacts with
religious communes. This search also reinforced their ties with nearby pacifist communes in
the framework of The Fellowship of Intentional Communities. The Fellowship held two
general meetings a year, in winter and summer, and at these meetings contacts were
established with various personalities from cooperative groups from North America and other
countries. The meetings were attended by delegations from the Bruderhof who at the time
were settled in Paraguay and who had begun to visit the communes in the United States from
.1949 In the autumn of 1953 the Bruderhof were invited to visit Macedonia and the delegation
stayed for several weeks. During this time there was much discussion on the subject of the
meaningful basis of community life. The Bruderhof delegation radiated confidence. Their
communes, with a thirty-year history behind them, had proven stability and economic
success. Their pacifist beliefs and communal living arrangements captivated some of
Macedonias members and they favored a union with the Bruderhof. These meetings finally
led to the decision to join the Bruderhof and split Macedonia into two: a group of 22 adults
and 11 children decided to move to the Bruderhof community. Among those who decided to
stay were members who were unconvinced of the need for a Christian basis. The split was
undertaken in a spirit of understanding and they reached agreement on the division of the toy
factory.
In the year following the split, Macedonia underwent a difficult period. The search for an
anchor of stability and co-operation went on, and it moved slowly and gradually towards a
communal model that would emphasize the individuals commitment to the needs of the
collective. They slowly became convinced that in order to uphold the individuals commitment
to the group, they would have to formulate a unified basis of religious belief.
In the summer of 1957 contacts with the Bruderhof were renewed and a Bruderhof delegation
was again invited for talks on belief and religion. The Macedonia people felt inferior to their
Bruderhof counterparts. In September 1957 a joint declaration was published in which the
members of Macedonia admitted that after a series of clarifications, at the center of which was
a joint reading of the New Testament, all those who had taken part in the discussions had
reached the conclusion that they were prepared to adopt the Bruderhof beliefs, and that the
inter-faith basis of Macedonia was unsuitable for meeting the existential needs as a commune.
In January 1958 the members of Macedonia asked to be accepted into the Bruderhof, and in
June 1958 the farm was sold by auction.
And so, after two rounds of ideological discussions, Macedonia was dismantled and merged
with the Anabaptist commune movement, the Bruderhof. Foreign observers found it difficult
to explain why the conversion of a pluralistic community like had taken place. One
assessment was that the members of Macedonia were exhausted after their prolonged struggle
for existence that had not yielded the expected fruits while the Bruderhof could show a
successful tradition of stability that had lasted for over 30 years. The dismantling of
Macedonia was a severe shock to the FIC group of communes. Furthermore, a short time after
the people from Macedonia joined them, the Bruderhof informed the Fellowship that it was
leaving. Once the FIC framework was dismantled, the majority of its member groups were
also dismantled. Among those that continued to exist, the most notable and singular was
Koinonia that upheld its general missions and was not tempted to join the Bruderhof, despite
the good relations formed with them in the past.
Koinonia
The settlement was founded by Clarence Jordan (b. Georgia, 1912), a graduate of the
department of agriculture at the University of Georgia, Athens. While still a student he
adopted two philosophies that shaped his future life: opposition to racial discrimination and
rejection of violence in all its forms. Some years later, in 1933, inspired by the New
Testament, he became an active pacifist. The Acts of the Apostles demonstrated to him the
sacred tradition of the brotherhood of the believers in the early Christian community. It was
in The Acts that he discovered the Greek word Koinonia as a concept whose deep meaning is
commonality of life, and he reached the conclusion that it was a Christians moral duty to live
in a community of full material and spiritual co-operation.
In the summer of 1941 he was active in the Fellowship of Reconciliation where he found some
friends with whom he purchased an old farm in Sumter County in south-western Georgia.
Thus the Koinonia community was founded. From 1949 they began organizing their way of
life as a commune. Immediately after the war they made contact with the pacifist groups that
had formed cooperative communities in the conscientious objectors detention camps. Many
of them, who were seeking a community of cooperative living where the members cared for
one another, had made contact with Koinonia during the war and some were absorbed into the
community after their release from detention. From its inception Koinonia devoted itself to
the advancement of racial integration while paying special attention to the problem of the
black people of the South. Their unique way of advancing these objectives was through a
communal life in which interracial co-operation was fulfilled in practice. However, as time
went by they realized that the three objectives could not be attained equally, and that not
only did the communal way of life not help them to advance the first two objectives, it
actually weakened the community’s attraction for Afro-Americans, who had reservations
about the need to relinquish private property and waive wages.
In the late 50s racial equality became a cardinal issue in the United States. The southern
states witnessed a struggle against segregation in schools and public places, and Koinonia, as a
community fighting for racial equality, found itself at the center of the storm. 1954 saw a rise
in the tension between Koinonia and its surroundings, the background of which was the
ferment in the South. In 1956 an economic boycott was imposed on Koinonia and they could
neither deposit money in the bank nor buy and sell within a 100 mile radius of the settlement.
Business people avoided contact with them for fear of damage to their businesses. In the
winter of 1956-1957, the settlement was fired on by hoodlums driving along the main road,
and this became a matter of routine. The attacks intensified when the Ku Klux Klan held
meetings of incitement close to the settlement. At these meetings they accused the Koinonia
members of communism and told them to leave Georgia. The boycott and attacks on Koinonia
by the people of the south aroused a wave of support from liberal circles in the northern
states. In 1957 numerous groups rallied to help and an association called The Friends of
Koinonia was formed. They viewed their support of Koinonia as a part of the struggle against
racism, but while the outside help contributed towards economic rehabilitation, it could not
solve all the problems. Some time later it became clear that the economic boycott, external
pressure and physical terrorism had weakened the commune socially. The shortages and
hardships caused internal tension among those who remained, fear for the children grew, and
there were those who sought refuge in the North, particularly the black members whose
physical wellbeing was under threat. The internal crisis reached its climax in 1957 It became
clear that their total support for the struggle of the civil rights movement would not enable
them to attain a reasonable integration of their aims. The harnessing of Koinonia to the
struggle against racial discrimination posed a dilemma that would trouble its members for the
next decade. During these years the question recurred of whether to stay in the South and
continue the battle for black integration or to move elsewhere and maintain their cooperative
community in peace and quiet. The disagreements were settled by a compromise whereby
they decided to wait and keep the option of a move open should the situation deteriorate.
The members of Koinonia decided to remain in the South because they were conscious of their
contribution to the struggle going in their county.
While their persistence in the civil rights struggle stabilized Koinonia as a settlement, it did
not prevent its disintegration as a commune. Involvement in these struggles often brought the
problem of Koinonias identity to the fore and also raised the question of whether the
existence of a commune was vital. In early 1962 the dilemma worsened and discussions began
at Koinonia on the possibility of giving up economic co-operation. Evidence of the
seriousness of the situation was the position adopted in these discussions by the communes
founder, Clarence Jordan, who felt that continued communal co-operation was no longer
possible. He claimed that over the years he had seen that communality obliged its members to
behave contrary to their will and personal ambitions. Jordan ceased to believe that economic
co-operation is a condition for spiritual co-operation. Moreover, he felt that releasing people
from financial interdependence would give them more time for intentional co-operation. These
discussions led Koinonia to a new organizational structure. The commune's economy was
divided into different sectors and each family was responsible for one of them. The families
could organize their work as they saw fit and also hire outside workers. Each family was
responsible for its own livelihood and was required to pay community taxes. The land and
the principal means of production remained in the hands of the community. In 1963 the
members of Koinonia decided that the farm would be kept as their cooperative property and
that food and medical services would remain as they were, but each family would take the
responsibility for revenue-generating enterprises. Thus they abandoned their original ideology
of full co-operation in order to preserve their mission in the fight for integration. In 1970 they
shifted the main thrust of their activities to an enterprise building inexpensive housing for low
income black families, and changed their name to Koinonia Partners, which underscored the
transition from a commune to a limited partnership as partners in a non-profitable charitable
organization.
Koinonia and Macedonia have been taken as test cases. They constituted a special chapter in
the history of pacifist communes: At their founding they were characterized by the desire to
show that pacifism could be constructive and that the ideology of peace could shape the basic
principles of communal communities whose ways of life could fall into line with the values of
the pacifist world.
From the experience of these two communes it appears that while pacifist theory could bring
its adherents to initiate the establishment of communes, it did not succeed in creating a
cohesive set of values that could establish a stable communal life. At a certain stage in their
development, other causes of attraction diverted the pacifist focus and integrated it into other
philosophies. Macedonia
as a secular pacifist commune, lost its belief in its unique message, broke up and merged with
the Anabaptist commune movement.
Koinonia, which at its inception was a religious pacifist commune, succeeded in surviving as a
commune while becoming involved in the struggle for interracial integration in the South. Yet
it, too, lost its original message, becoming a small intentional community that maintained
partial communality: cooperative ownership of its land, farm buildings and branches, and
family privacy while maintaining mutual aid. Instead of the pacifist message and the fight for
racial equality, it shifted to serving the low income strata mainly through its construction
company for inexpensive housing for the economically distressed black population.
Pacifism in the United States after World War Two neither succeeded in creating a stable
communal movement nor establishing exemplary settlements that would cast their influence
over a broad periphery. It did not, however, vanish from American public life. It still had
roles to play in the struggle against the Vietnam war, and the fight for peace became a central
part of the counterculture ethos. It also did not vanish from the world of the communes, for
not much time passed before the establishment of other communes in America, Europe,
Australia and New Zealand that adopted the aspiration towards peace as one of their declared
and principal elements. But they also had other aims, and the aspiration to prove the
constructive element of pacifism was not the central one.
1.2 Communal Overview
Utopia Britannica
Chris Coates
Diggers and Dreamers
"The value of communities is not what they have done,
But the revolution which they indicate is on the way. "
Emerson
At the year 2000 UK inter-communities volleyball tournament, whilst I was halfway through
the research for Utopia Britannica, a visitor said that they would never join an intentional
(utopian) community because they were in reality pretty insignificant. This was pretty much
a red rag to a bull. So here gleaned from my research are a few 'insignificant moments' from the
history of intentional communities in England, Scotland, Wales & Ireland.
- The introduction and popularisation of the ideas of Italian educationalist Heinrich
Pestalozzi by the Sacred Socialists(c1840s) and the Owenites(1830s/40s) which now
underpin our entire education system so securely that few have ever heard of him let alone
challenge his ideas.
- The clothes we all stand up in - otherwise known as 'Rational Dress' ("unusually
comfortable, loose-fitting clothes") promoted by Godfrey and Ethel Blountof Haslemere
Peasant Industries (c1896), through the Healthy and Artistic Dress Union and pioneered in
utopian communities up and down the country at the turn of the 20th century. (Oh, add to
that, multi-width shoes introduced by Clarks, Quaker shoe makers from Street in Somerset.)
- Our entire Town and Country Planning system, carefully crafted by Raymond Unwin and
his band of Arts & Crafts movement architects from the Garden City ideas of Ebenezer
Howard.(1890s - 1920s) (On a recent flight to Denmark almost every North of England town
viewed from a mile up appeared to be ringed by developments that bear all the hallmarks of
Parker & Unwin Garden Village plans.)
- Social work - pretty much invented by Octavia Hill and the University Settlement
Movement at the end of the 19th century.
- 4 Prime Ministers resident in utopian communities. Ramsay MacDonald at the Fellowship
of the New Life, Herbert Asquith educated by the Moravians at Fulneck, Clement Attlee,
secretary of Toynbee Hall and Harold Wilson, homeowner in Hampstead Garden Suburb.
- Struggling a bit for successful sportsmen I will have to settle for tennis champion Fred
Perry from the Brentham Club and vegetarian walking champion George Allen resident of
Whiteway who smashed a whole week off the record for Land’s End to John O'Groats in
1904.
- And finally perhaps the biggest utopian experiment of them all - the Welfare State. Penned
by William Beveridge, former secretary at Toynbee Hall & editor of the Ruskinite paper St
George, it was in essence an attempt to distil the experiences of 200 years of small-scale
utopian experiment into a grand practical plan to deliver utopia to the masses.
The historic impact of small-scale experimental utopian communities
- misrepresented, maybe - insignificant, I don't think so.
Can we learn anything from our utopian ancestors?
As I have travelled through both time and geography a sort of hidden utopian landscape Utopia Britannica - has revealed itself to me; a garden village here, a land settlement there,
further on a religious community, in the next town a freehold land club, then a Chartist
colony, over the next hill a model village, round the next bend a settlement house....... a
landscape peppered with people’s hopes and aspirations for a better world. There seems to
be what I have termed a 'utopian tendency' to human nature, an innate drive to make the world
a better place. For some, the tendency works in relation to their immediate surroundings and
close relative; others are driven to apply it to the whole of society.
One of the problems surrounding any discussion of attempts to set up ideal societies is the
confusing interplay between fictional utopias and practical utopian experiments. When is a
fiction a plan? Is a plan fiction? What happens when a plan is put into action? What about
experiments with no plans; are they utopian? What if the reality doesn't match up to the plan:
is the community a fiction? Lucy Sargisson in her book Contemporary Feminist Utopianism
suggests that in women's science fiction utopia is no longer a fixed, completely-defined plan
that can be deemed to have been attained or not, but instead a dynamic ongoing process that
we have to participate in. Perhaps utopianism has always been a dynamic ongoing
participatory process. We just happen to view it through freeze-frame-snapshot-spectacles.
If we take a long, wide-angle view of utopian history the sheer scale of wave after wave of
utopian experiments looks less like a catalogue of broken dreams & more like a guidebook for
the journey to that another place, a better place - the better place that is no-place - utopia.
Statistical analysis of my research shows that approximately 60% of all religious based
communities lasted less than ten years with secular groups only doing slightly better at 57%.
With such short lifespans for many communities can we really make any claims for
widespread influence? – either historically or at the present time. Especially when there is
also a tendency for the groups that do survive to loose much of their initial radical edge as
time progresses. The Sociologist Nick Crossley has recently argued that we should see smallscale social experiments that fall short of their complete aspirations as - Working utopias. "
they are working models..... having an educative role ...showing that things can be done
differently."2 Lucy Sargisson sees the utopian tradition as having an even more positive
cultural role to play. 'Utopias, ... are an invaluable resource for political thought. Not only do
they offer critique; but they also add to this imagination and play and creativity. In addition
they are spaces (physical, fictional, imaginary and real) in which we can think about things
differently..... as easily identifiable spaces, they can act as points of inspiration. Visitors from
the mainstream can enter them and engage in utopian dialogue, returning marked by the
encounter.." 3
I would like to end with a question, a piece of what you might call intuitive history – Writing
a history of Utopian experiments I have been struck by the connections between
people/groups. I asked myself the question - are we talking about a living tradition? I know
that we acknowledge a tradition that stretches back to the 17th Century Diggers and beyond –
but is this really just a historical paper trail or could we talk about a real person to person,
group to group, generation to generation continuum? So the question is does anybody here
know anybody who knew somebody, who knew somebody……who knew Gerrard
Winstanley? - Nobody – Well perhaps you do now!
I know/knew Freer Spreckley – one of the founder members in the 1970’s of Lifespan a
community in Northern England, Freer was an ex-pupil of Summerhill – the radical school in
Suffolk where A. S. Neil was head. Before Neil moved his school to Suffolk it was based in
Dorset from where he would drive at weekends to exchange notes with the Headmaster of
Dartington School in Devon,W. B. Curry. At Dartington at the time was a young artist in
residence potter Bernard Leach, who would almost single-handed revive the art of the craft
potter from his studio at the artists Colony at St Ives. Also at St Ives were the Sculptor
Barbara Hepworth and artist Ben Nicolson – who incidentally sent their children to school at
Dartington. Nicolson along with the likes of Henry Moore, Augustus John and Eric Gill
formed the Artist International Association, an anti-fascist group whose aim was to establish
an 'army of artists' to oppose the advance of 'philistine barbarism'. They organised a number
of exhibitions 'Against Fascism & War'. Eric Gill, renowned sculptor and founder of 3 of his
own artistic communities, links back from to the first generation of the arts and crafts
movement – he knew C. R. Ashbee founder of the Guild of Handicrafts and if he didn’t know
William Morris directly he certainly moved in circles that did. William Morris at this stage
was in his anarcho-marxist-revolutionary phase and working for a revolution through the
Socialist League. One member of the Socialist League was Edward Thomas Craig, known as
ET to his friends, the elderly Craig was renowned for his phrenology reading carried out in the
parlour at Kelmscott Manor, but in his younger days he had been not only a Chartist but
before that an Owenite and had in fact been the manager of the Owenite community at
Ralahine in Co. Clare Ireland and a personal acquaintance of the grand old man of socialist &
co-operative movement and key mover and shaker of early 19th century utopian communities
- Robert Owen.
At this point I was feeling quite please if not somewhat amazed – direct person-to-person
links from here and now 200 years back to Robert Owen. Could we now stretch it back to
Gerard Winstanley striding up St George’s Hill in 1649? Owen reprinted a book by a Quaker
of the name of John Bellars Proposal for raising a College of Industry of all Useful Trades
and Husbandry who was probably aware of Winstanley and his work…. That however does
not really count. Owen did meet poet laureate Robert Southey, who along with that other
Radical romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. In 1794 set about founding their
enlightenment utopian - Pantisocracy. Another Pantisocrat was the poet Robert Lovell a
second generation Quaker from Bristol who by inference must have known first generation
Quakers – which gets us back to the right period, but not the right place.
One last try – In 1793 a group known as the Philadelphians established The South Place
Ethical Society that eventually evolved into the first humanist society in the UK and still runs
Conway Hall in Red Lion Square in London as a radical meeting place.4 IF these are connected
to the same Philadelphians run by the mystics Jane Leade and John ‘Abraham’ Pordage then,
via Rev Pordage who was a radical preacher during the English Civil War at Bradfield in
Berkshire, we have our link to the Diggers. Pordage ran a sort of Open house or ‘family
communion’ and one of the residents at this ‘Ranters Commune’ was a certain William
Everard thought to be the same William Everard who was present with Gerrard Winstanley
when the Diggers squatted St Georges Hill in 1649.5 And finally a message from Gerrard, or
maybe we can call him Gerry – after all he is the friend of a friend, so to speak.
" Words and writing were all nothing and must die, for action is the life of all. And if thou dost
not act, thou dost nothing."
Gerrard Winstanley. A Watchword to the City of London 1649
Notes:
1. Quoted by T. Adams. How to Solve the Problem of Rural Depopulation. 1906
2. N. Crossley. Working Utopias and Social Movements. Sociology 33(4), 809-30. 1999
3. Lucy Sargisson. Utopian Bodies and the Politics of Transgression
4. http://www.ethicalsoc.org.uk. (16.6.2001)
5. Details of William Everard in Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down 1972
AUTHORS BIOGRAPHY
Chris Coates; Born 1957 in Leicester a proud product of the comprehensive education
system. Squatter, street performer, carpenter, father, anarchist and communard, lived for
twenty years at People in Common a small alternative community based in Burnley
Lancashire that grew out of the radical underground of the 1970's. He was a founder member
of a building co-operative and Altham Hardwood Centre an ecological timber co-operative
specialising in sustainable use of English Oak. He has been one of the editors of Diggers &
Dreamers, the Bi-Annual Journal and directory of communal living, since its inception in 1989
and before that a contributor to Communes Network. Currently works as a freelance
consultant for community based building projects, balancing writing about communities with
building them. Has spent the last 3 years researching a history of British Utopian experiments
entitled: Utopian Britannica (Pub date 1.9.2001)
To contact author e-mail: [email protected]
Website www.utopia-britannica.org.uk (Due to be launched Sept 2001)
Extracts from Utopia Britannica Gazetteer – mentioned in text above
Concordium 1842 – 48 FOUNDER/ LEADER : J. P. Greaves
Community and school set up by followers of Sacred Socialism at Alcott House on four acres
of land with extensive gardens planted with fruit trees. Also a playground, lawns, walkways,
arbours and summerhouse. The residents lived a spartan life of Physical Puritanism, eating a
raw vegetarian diet and subscribing to a whole range of 'new' ideologies, including phrenology,
hydropathy, mesmerism and celibacy. They promoted their ideas through printing The
Heathian and New Age magazines. They established The British and Foreign Society for the
Promotion of Humanity and the Abstinence of Animal Food, a forerunner of the Vegetarian
Society. In 1848 the community disbanded, and the building was used as a cholera orphanage
for girls, later known as `The National Orphan Home'. The building was replaced in 1862, and
its use was subsequently changed to a private residence, `South Lodge' and more recently into
luxury flats.
GRID REF: Ham Common Richmond. REF: Search for a New Eden.
The Haslemere Peasant Industries 1896 - ?
FOUNDER/LEADER: Godfrey Blount.
The Haslemere Peasant Industries set up by Godfrey Blount and his wife Ethel was an
artistic community with the aim of integrating work, leisure and the country life and the
philanthropic principles of the home industries movement. The Peasant Industries was an
umbrella organisation of small workshops that employed local craftworkers. It also ran a shop
in London. Along with C. R. Ashbee's wife Janet the Blounts were prominent members of the
Healthy and Artistic Dress Union(1890) which promoted the wearing of "unusually
comfortable, loose-fitting clothes made of hand-woven cloth."
GRID REF: SU904328 Haslemere REF: The Arts & Crafts Movement. E. Cumming & W.
Kaplan
Toynbee Hall 1888 ?
FOUNDER/LEADER: Canon Barnet
First of the University Settlement houses. Set up by Canon Barnet to bring middle-class
students in touch with working class communities and carry out social relief work. Among the
students to pass through its doors were C. R. Ashbee. William Beveridge and Clement Attlee.
GRID REF: Whitechapel REF: Heavens Below
Dartington Hall 1925 - present FOUNDER/ LEADER: Leonard & Dorothy Elmhirst
Successful experiment in rural regeneration financed by New York heiress’s fortune. Inc: 800
acres of farms & forestry, experimental school, art college & open-air theatre, cider press,
glassworks and various research projects. Became a series of trusts in 1931 and managed to
maintain its radical edge beyond the death of its founders.
GRID REF: SX 800626 REF: The Elmhirsts of Dartington.
St Ives Artists Colony 1885 The best known of the English artists colonies. Originally known for its mainly foreign
landscape painters. Was always more cosmopolitan than its sister colony at Newlyn. Enjoyed
a renaissance when discovered by a new generation of modern artists in WW2, becoming home
to Barbara Hepworth & Ben Nicholson. Still a magnet for the art world with the recent
opening of the new Tate Gallery there.
GRID REF: SW515404 REF: Stanhope Forbes & the Newlyn School / The Good & Simple
Life.
Rahaline Agricultural & Manufacturing Ass. 1831 Co Clare Ireland FOUNDER/LEADER: J.
Vandeleur / E. T. Craig.
Owenite-inspired community set up by landowner John Vandeleur after disturbances on his
estate, with E. T. Craig the editor of the Lancashire co-operator as manager. A successful cooperative agricultural community was established on the 600 acre estate. Cottages and
communal facilities were built, a school and library established. The community was run by
an elected committee who introduced a labour credit system. Weaving was introduced and
they brought in the first reaping machine to be used in Ireland. The community was wound up
after 2 yrs existence when Vandeleur lost his estate in a bet.
REF: Robert Owen & the Owenites in Britain & America / Co-operation & Owenite Socialist
Communities.
Bradfield 1649 -1654 /1665- FOUNDER/ LEADER : 'Father Abraham' John Pordage.
Pordage, radical rector of Bradfield, kept open house or 'family communion'. Other members
included; Diggers’ leader William Everard, Ranter Abeizer Coppe, vegetarian ascetic Roger
Crab & Millenarian Tomas Tany. Pordage went on to set up the Phildelphians with Jane
Leade.
GRID REF: SU 605724 REF Heavens Below / World Turned Upside Down
St Georges Hill Diggers Colony 1649 - 50LEADER/FOUNDER: Gerard Winstanley
On April 1st 1649 half a dozen men began to dig common land at St George's Hill - the bestdocumented 'Diggers Colony'. Soon joined by others, they attempted to tend the heath as a
"common treasury for all", building huts, grazing livestock and cutting firewood. Continually
harassed & attacked by local landowners the Diggers, or True Levellers as they called
themselves, were forced off St George's Hill and moved to Cobham a few miles away.
Through Winstanley's writing others were inspired throughout England to take up their
spades and start to cultivate the commons.
GRID REF: TQ125664 REF: World Turned Upside down
WEBSITES: www.tlio.demon.co.uk/diggers.htm www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~royhan/film/
Some interesting statistics
Having read How to Lie with Statistics whilst studying A level sociology I am wary of statistical summaries.
Nevertheless, with a fair amount of calculated guesswork where accurate information was not available, of some
350 groups that made-it into existence between 1600 &1945 the numbers break down as:
1600 - 1800 :
1800 - 1850 :
1850 - 1900 :
1900 - 1950
Age/Years
Less than 2
2 to 5
5 to 10
10 to 25
25 to 50
50 to 100
100+
NUMBERS OF COMMUNITIES
30 or so predominantly religious based groups.
Over 70 mainly early socialist.
115 groups. 84% secular based.
116 groups. 79% secular based.
LIFESPAN OF COMMUNITIES
Religious
Secular
20.5 %
9%
27.25%
30%
13.5%
18.5%
8.25%
15.5%
12.5%
17.5%
11%
7%
7%
2.5%
Religious groups fail to survive the first few years due mainly to persecution and few survive
beyond 10 years, though if they do they often manage to stabilise and reach a good age. A
large number of all types of groups manage to survive for up to 5 years. Secular groups have a
better % survival in the 5 to 50 year range though they often loose their initial radical edge as
time progresses. And of those that reach a century of existence, whilst it is a higher % of
religious based groups, the actual numbers are slightly in favour of secular communities.(7Rel.
& 9 Sec.)
Out to Save the World: Why Communal Studies Matters for the
Twenty First Century
Timothy Miller
University of Kansas
We live in a world that needs community as never before. Community is a buzzword today,
on the lips of many, but it is not unreasonable to declare that never before in human history
has real human community been in such serious decline as it is today. Especially in the
"developed" countries of the western world, egotism and selfishness have become
paramount values, while traditional values, such as close, nurturing community, have marched
steadily toward oblivion.
Today I want to address a terrible irony in the contemporary world. On the one hand, the
world is drowning in its own material and cultural excesses, and an important root cause of
that suffering is the retreat from community we see all around us. On the other hand,
communal studies, one of the few places that stand to make a real contribution to the
restoration of community as a vital principle in human culture, is a field inhabited by the
smallest handful of scholars, communitarians, and preservationists. Some few hundreds of
thousands live communally, and a relatively few more support the communal ideal through
such intercommunal organizations as the United Kibbutz Movement, the Ecovillage Network,
the Fellowship for Intentional Community, the various European communal networks, and
other such groups. As a percentage of the world's population they aren't very numerous, but
they look like a huge throng compared to the few hundred persons worldwide who are
involved in the International Communal Studies Association and its sibling groups. Yet
despite our small numbers I am convinced that our work is vital. While I would not be so
arrogant as to say that we ICSA members uniquely of all the world's people have the answers
the world needs, I do believe that we do have some saving knowledge - some idea of how we
can make human culture fulfil its promise in a better way. And my call is for us to our apply
our important knowledge to a world that stands to benefit greatly by having it.
What I would call the crisis, or at least the malaise, of the contemporary world is made up of
elements quite familiar to all of us. Perhaps foremost is our continuing assault on our common
global environment. For many decades we have known that our lifestyle is devastating the
earth, but our excessive behaviors just get worse, not better. We continue to pour carbon
dioxide and other gases into the atmosphere, making global warming an imminent
environmental disaster. We continue to drive ever more cars ever more miles, consuming more
and more petroleum, paving over farmland, and pouring vast quantities of greenhouse gases
into the air we breathe. We spray endless tons of chemicals on our farmland, thus poisoning
both the earth and the water that runs off the land. We cut down vast tracts of forest land,
the lungs of the earth, and we destroy yet more land by strip-mining. The ozone that
protects us from deadly ultraviolet radiation is vanishing due to our activities. We continue to
create nuclear waste that will be with us for hundreds of thousands of years.
But you know all that. Instead of making this lecture simply a catalog of the ills of the world,
let me simply affirm that there plenty of them. We have crime. We have poverty. We have
widespread social injustice. We have racism. Prejudice against women, against homosexuals,
against certain ethnic groups, and against unpopular religions continues to thrive. War and
other kinds of violence remain ever with us.
So where do these terrible, seemingly intractable, social problems come from? I would
maintain that they stem from a variety of human activities. Industrial capitalism has led to a
society in which a small elite controls enormous resources while vast numbers waste away in
poverty. Urbanization has contributed to an unwholesome physical environment. Alienation
is everywhere. Our technology has only fueled our race into a world of anti-community. Our
cars have given us sealed little anonymous environments in which we do not have to interact
in a human and personal way with others. Television has taken us out of the public square
and isolated us in our living rooms. The vast flow of information now coming through
computers takes us out of libraries and has us sit alone in front of screens. Western culture
glorified rampant individualism of the worst kind - not the kind that embraces creativity and
diversity, but the kind that promotes a "me first" attitude that puts the selfish interests of the
individual ahead of the common good.
The causes of our social situation are many and complex, but they are of our own making.
Ultimately, perhaps, they arise from human nature itself. But certainly one prime element of
the social crisis is the breakdown of community. Where the tribe, the family, the clan once
dominated one's life, alienated isolation now reigns supreme. Without community our world
is simply falling apart.
Again, I disclaim any ability to discern a perfect solution to this situation. Indeed, I am
convinced that we will not make great headway against them in my lifetime or in my greatgrandchildren's lifetime unless some dramatic catastrophe grabs and shakes us. Because we do
eventually need to make some headway against them, however, I believe that we need to
propose the best solutions we can and start working on them. If not us, who? If not now,
when?
At the risk of sounding simple-minded, I must say that the solution to the breakdown of
community is the creation of more community. That is exactly what the world is calling out
for at this difficult moment in its history.
I would recognize at the outset that there are many types of community, so many that
ultimately the word loses a great deal of its specific meaning. Broadly speaking, community
means building intimate and supportive human relationships. It can mean neighborliness, or
simple gestures of charity, helping the downtrodden and unfortunate.
The word "communitarianism" is now used in the United States by some to denote this kind
of pursuit of broad, common values in opposition to the prevailing pattern of individualism.
Most of us can endorse that program, at least in its general intent. Anything we can do in the
direction of bringing people together for the common good surely deserves applause and
assistance.
Community, however, can mean something much deeper, or at least more specific, than that
as well. It can mean an overhaul of one's lifestyle in which one not only tries to live a good
and helpful life but also tries to use one's life to bring about deep social change in concert with
others. For those whose level of dedication to their ideals is especially high, living in an
intentional communities is perhaps the best of all possible ways to exist.
Although the number of persons living in intentional communities is small, as I have said,
communities do provide a crucial model of another way of life that the people of the world
need to see. Or perhaps I should say "models," in the plural, because communities take a
wide variety of forms. Some today, as in the past, continue to be heavily communal, with all
members living from a common treasury and giving up virtually all private property. Some
have a heavy focus in a particular religious outlook, or in a similarly central secular
philosophy. In the last few years two types of intentional community have seemed to
emerge as especially appropriate to the spirit of our time: ecovillages and cohousing. At the
same time, the traditional religious communitarians, such as the Hutterites, are still an
enormous part of the overall communal scenes. The kibbutzim of Israel remain world leaders
as communal pioneers. The many egalitarian communities founded during the last thirty-five
years or so are continuing to make an enormous contribution. The world of community is a
diverse one.
Those of us who work as academics are as a matter of principle supposed to be impartial
observers and analysts, not advocates. While I do believe we do need to keep a good deal of
objectivity in our work, however, I think it eminently reasonable to believe that the focus of
our studies needs encouragement as well as observation. It seems to me entirely reasonable to
believe that the massive celebration of individualism of the destructive sort, of anticommunity, of the last two or three hundred years has produced some dreadful consequences,
and that the return to community in its many forms, and the development of more intimate
and supportive human relationships, are major parts of the answer to the problem.
And that, in short, is why I think communal studies matters, and why the International
Communal Studies Association is important. My many scientist friends have made huge
contributions to human well-being through their work that has led to the wonders of modern
medicine, among other things. I would only hope that communal studies scholars could have
the same dedication to a socially beneficial outcome to their work.
Now, that makes it sound as though the ICSA is only for and about scholars, but the ICSA to
which I am proud to belong has far broader horizons than that. One reason that I am such an
enthusiastic participant in the ICSA is that it fully and eagerly embraces not only academics
but also practicing communitarians. My larger academic involvement is in religious studies,
and when I go to the annual conference of our major national professional association, the
American Academy of Religion, I find myself in the company of about 8,000 scholars of
religious studies and only a tiny handful of practitioners who are not also scholars. That has
its value, but it doesn't ignite my passion the way the ICSA does. The interaction between
scholars and practicing communitarians, and of course the inclusion of many individuals who
are both at once, is a key part of the genius of this organization.
I would go farther than that and say that the two principal constituencies of our organization,
the scholars and the practicing communitarians, actually need each other. For scholars, I
suppose that's obvious: we do, after all, need subjects for our research. As a scholar I would
say that if intentional communities did not exist we would have to invent them, if only to
keep us in bread and butter.
But the other side of the equation is equally important: communitarians and communities
today need scholars. We all know that some communities are suspicious of scholarship of the
type practiced in modern universities and close themselves off, but most do not, fortunately,
and over time most do come to realize just what they have to gain from scholarly attention. A
major reason why communities need scholars is that communities, for all their strengths, are
widely regarded by the general public as cesspools of odd and deviant human behavior. In the
United States word "commune" is hardly used any more because it carries so much negative
baggage. A word with an even more negative connotation than "commune" is "cult," or
Europeans would say "sect," which in popular use may basically be defined as a group of
which one disapproves, which one thinks is somehow sinister or dangerous. And for many
citizens of the modern world, there's really no difference between commune and cult. People
who do things differently are suspect. It has been the case over and over that when an
intentional community tries to buy land on which to establish itself, local people resist letting
these terrible undesirables into the neighborhood. Once a community gets established and the
neighbors find out just how positive it can be, then things change. But the social stereotypes
and prejudices are enormous, by and large.
Let me provide a case in point: in Chicago a large Christian commune called Jesus People USA
has been in operation for over 25 years. It typically has around 500 members and thus is hard
to ignore, but over time its neighbors came to see the dedication and hard work of the
members, as well as their provision of extensive social services to the poor and homeless, and
members had reason to think they were overcoming all of the typical anti-communal
prejudices and settling in as respectable members of society, even if a lot of their members
continued to look like punks and hippies. Then, a few months ago, the Chicago Tribune
newspaper published a scathing series, based heavily on accounts provided by hostile exmembers, that pulled just about all of the classic stereotypes into play: these people were
brainwashing their members so that the leaders could control them. They were amassing huge
amounts of money for which they were not accounting. The leaders were living very well
while the common members were living in poverty. And so on and so forth - everything that
is commonly believed about a "cult" was there.
JPUSA has been struggling mightily since then to reclaim what should rightfully be a positive
public image. And how has it undertaken that? In significant part it has done it with the help
of outside academic scholars. Over the years quite a few scholars have come to know a lot
more about the real nature of the organization than a newspaper reporter with a negative
agenda did. Those scholars provided statements in rebuttal of the manifest errors and
misjudgments of the newspaper stories, and thus helped JPUSA overcome unfair and biased
criticism.
And there are other reasons why communities need scholars. Another contribution scholars
can make to communities is the provision of an understanding of history. Communities have
been around for several thousand years, and often the past has lessons that can be exceedingly
useful to the present. Scholars can provide those lessons for communitarians who can
genuinely use them. After all, we don't need to reinvent the wheel every time someone
decides to start an intentional community. Furthermore, scholars can evaluate and criticize
intentional communities, which, it must be said, do not always recognize some of their own
shortcomings and problems.
The simple fact is that scholars need communities, and communities need scholars. If for no
other reason, the ICSA has a most valuable role to play. It is my hope that we can strengthen
it and make it live up to its very considerable potential.
One of the best known of the American communes of the 1960s era was the Farm in
Tennessee, USA. Beginning as a loose group of spiritual seekers in San Francisco, the people
who eventually became the residents of the Farm piled onto a long caravan of buses and
finally, after months on the road, settled down to build a commune. They continued,
however, and continue today to perform tireless work for social and environmental justice and
reform. About three years after arriving in Tennessee they published what was one of the
most evocative primary documents of the communes of that time, a colorful book called Hey
Beatnik: This Is the Farm Book, written largely by the Farm's charismatic leader Stephen
Gaskin. One of the short articles in the book is entitled "This country needs in great numbers
to become voluntary peasants." I will end my own remarks by quoting Stephen's clarion call
in that essay:
"That's what I go around the country . . . for: to try to talk to lots and lots of people. . . .
And it says on the front of our bus: OUT TO SAVE THE WORLD. That phrase is chosen
from the old thing, "Well, I ain't out to save the world, but . . ." We are. Out front. I don't
know anything else to do that seems worthwhile. I can already feed myself. I already was a
college professor. Not as much fun as this. Want to help?"
1.3 Communal History
Interpreting the Oneida Community
and its Legacy:
Competing Agendas and Audiences
Marlyn McGary Klee, Ph.D., Adelphi University, USA
[email protected]
Department of Political Science, Blodgett 202
Adelphi University, Garden City, N.Y. 11530
Phone: 516-877-4590/FAX: 516-877-4594
[Please note: some abbreviations are used in this paper:
OC: Oneida Community;
OCMH: Oneida Community Mansion House
JHN: John Humphrey Noyes
PBN: Pierrepont Burt Noyes]
The origins of this paper are several. Late last summer, I first began thinking about what
would be a useful and interesting paper for this gathering. In the United States, we were
approaching a Presidential election, and there was much comment about President Clinton's
"legacy"--in other words, how would history remember him? I am an historian. I really like
the word "legacy". Yet it is very difficult to determine a legacy, is it not?
Also last summer the Communal Studies Association (CSA) distributed its bi-annual
Newsletter, for which scholar Dr. Timothy Miller contributed an article marking the 25th
anniversary of many communal societies in the United States. It was a long, impressive list. I
began thinking about the intentions and hopes of these communities' founding members.
These communes are aging. Members are beginning to wonder how they will preserve their
histories and their archives,--in short, how to manage their legacies. The CSA is receiving
more inquires from communities, for example, about how and where to preserve their
historical records.
Another source of concern for the "legacy" of a community is my on-going research about the
Oneida Community, Oneida, New York (1848-1881) of which I am an interpreter/scholar.
This Community disbanded one hundred and twenty one years ago, but it continues to
fascinate. Descendants, scholars, corporate executives, funders, museum officials, journalists,
students and countless others have struggled to interpret the Oneida Community--on the one
hand, trying to be candid about the intentions and truths of the nineteenth century
communards' lives, and on the other hand, attempting to make the Oneida Community both
relevant and interesting to a twenty-first century audience. The community home (O.C.
Mansion House: OCMH) which embodies its history so marvelously, has recently been
legally severed from the silverware corporation, Oneida Ltd., which cared for it for more than
a century. A non-profit organization has been formed to maintain the 300-room Mansion
House, to establish a museum there, and to attract contemporary visitors. As a scholar of the
Oneida Community I have been fortunate to be consulted about some of these recent
developments.
Yet, the compelling question remains: what is the legacy of the Oneida Community, or any
other community? What message or lesson, if any, did the members of the original
community intend to convey to "outsiders", both contemporaries and those of the future?
Did they, in fact, even ponder their legacy, and did they make efforts to shape their legacy?
What I would like to do today is to use the Oneida Community as an example for raising
wider questions about the lessons of communal living, and specifically, the legacy of each
intentional community. Many people who are here at the conference have dedicated their
lives to building communities, and have no doubt been impelled to do so by many diverse
motivations. I am not a communard, but rather, an historian. Yet, I hope to raise questions
not only for those of us who study communities, but also for those who do the hard work of
building living communities all around the world.
It is a truism in the historical profession that, when analyzing social phenomena, there is no
such thing as objective truth--that each historian will interpret her subject through the filter of
her own time and of her own value system. Nevertheless, an historian of intentional
communities attempts to be faithful to the people she studies, asking: what were they about?
what did they mean to do? what did they intend their legacy to be? This leads me to ask
another question: can a community control its legacy or even influence it? Or having once
disbanded, does a community's legacy succumb entirely to the vicissitudes of its subsequent
interpreters, that is, to the interpretation of people like me?
In the case of the Oneida Community, these are important questions, because this experiment
in Bible Communism was certainly not a mainstream institution in any sense of the word. In
fact, it was "counter-cultural" before the word was invented! Under the leadership of a
charismatic, self-assured leader, John Humphrey Noyes (1811-1886), members of the Oneida
Community built an institution of more than three hundred people, and practiced social
relations that were unusual and not particularly approved-of by nineteenth century
Americans. These practices included: 1) complete communism of work and income; 2) a
eugenic experiment in human reproduction ("stirpiculture") during which 58 children were
born in the last decade of the OC's existence; 3) communal childbearing by adults other than
biological parents; 4) a unique system of birth control called "male continence" (coitus
reservatus); 5) plural marriage, a system wherein all adults (age 14 and above) theoretically
became heterosexual partners; and 6) a patriarchal ideology called the "ascending fellowship"
in which males (the spiritual superiors) "fertilized" females (the spiritual inferiors) during
sexual intercourse.
When the Oneida Community disbanded in 1881 and re-formed into a joint-stock company,
many descendants had to go out into the "outside world", having no experience with money or
conventional employment. Further they were branded as libertines and, in the case of the
children, bastards, by many of their immediate neighbors. So it should not be surprising to
learn that many Community descendants wanted to become "normal" as quickly as possible
and to suppress knowledge of the Community's distinct social/sexual practices.
Like many intentional communities, and despite concentrated attempts at communal
socialization, the Oneida Community had difficulty keeping its children and grandchildren in
the fold. The problems of passing on one's commitments to the next generation and of
counting on them to continue one's legacy are common to many communities. Some OC
descendants turned their back on the religious and social inheritance given to them by their
elders. In other words, they spurned the legacy. Other descendants sanitized it.
The corporation (Oneida Community, Ltd.) that succeeded the Oneida Community did
ultimately become successful, and provided many descendants with jobs and dividends.
Although some former communards moved away and severed all connections, a number of
descendants stayed nearby; some roomed in the Mansion House. They met often to socialize
and to hold reunions. To this day, the descendants of the OC hold a "Homecoming" each
summer at the Mansion House. They have published a necessarily complicated genealogy of
the Community. They know their history. (1) Picking and choosing what they wished to
emphasize and what they wanted to suppress, the descendants pretty much controlled the
OC legacy until about 30 years ago. In the late 1960s, a new generation of historians and
sociologists, motivated by the social reform movements of their time, took up the serious
study the OC. At approximately the same time Oneida, Ltd.* underwent changes.
These introductory remarks give a brief sketch of the Oneida Community. Now I will fill in
some of the details that I believe are pertinent to its legacy.
*Oneida Community, Ltd. was renamed Oneida, Ltd. in 1935.
Motivations of the Founding Generation: Leader and Followers
It is a daunting task to try to figure out more than 120 years later and based on scant sources,
what motivated members of the Oneida Community to join this very unique human
community, and what legacy they hoped to leave. The public, professed purpose of the
leader, John Humphrey Noyes, was to build a living Eden, where women and men could live
perfect lives as promised in the Bible. They would, at least symbolically, escape the four
scourges of humanity as outlined in the Book of Genesis: estrangement from God; heavy
labor; painful childbirth; and finally, death itself. (2)
Early joiners to the Oneida Community adhered very closely to Noyes' vision, most often
mentioning spiritual motivation as their primary reason for joining. (3) For at least a decade,
Community children were taught to "confess Christ a pure heart" and to refer to John
Humphrey Noyes and his wife, Harriet Holton Noyes, as "Father and Mother", suggesting
that the Community firmly hoped to replace the biological family with the larger, spiritual one
they were fashioning.(4) Yet the motivations of joiners were probably multi-causal and
included a search for economic security, and, for single parents (of whom there were a
surprising number, both men and women), help raising their young children who accompanied
them into the Bible Communist family. Whatever the motivations of the founding generation
and those who joined over the years, it is not at all clear that the view of the Community they
wished to perpetuate was successful, even during their own lifetimes. Certainly Noyes
thought about the legacy of his theology and Community, but probably many members did
not. Rather, they were fixated on making the Community a meaningful experience during their
lifetimes. That was work enough.
Nineteenth- Century Interpreters of the Oneida Community
Nineteenth century interpreters held a wide range of views about the Community. Some read
about Noyes' theology and social practices, packed their bags, and presented themselves for
membership.(5) Others were indifferent, or amused. (6) Still others, particularly Protestant
clergymen, found the Community an affront to respectable Christian society, and set out to
destroy it. (7) After an initial period of adjustment , neighboring farmers and merchants in
upstate New York decided to "live and let live", especially because the Community provided
business and trade for them, and employed their daughters and sons in Community
businesses. (8) Near the end of the Community's existence an inquiry by local clergy into the
sexual behaviors of the communards stirred trouble in surrounding towns and cities, but most
analysts of the Community believe that these actions were not decisive in bringing an end to
the OC. Rather, the Break-Up of 1881 was caused by internal divisions, an inability to secure
the commitments of leading members of the second generation, and the challenges of younger
men to Noyes' diminishing leadership. (9)
The OC made a relatively smooth transition to a joint-stock company and attempted to
provide some economic security in the form of stock options for members. The Oneida
Community, Ltd. businesses continued in a rather desultory fashion. Noyes died five years
after the Break-Up, and had nothing to do with subsequent OC business developments.
Many descendants in the immediate post-Community period experimented with various
nineteenth century spiritualist fads like mesmerism, rappings, and so forth. Both the
businesses and the descendants seemed to be adrift. Doubtless, very few people were
thinking about the Oneida Community's legacy in the late nineteenth century.(10)
Conflicts over the Oneida Community Legacy: 1900-1970
By the turn of the century, two descendants held in their hands the keys to the Community's
legacy. One was Pierrepont Burt Noyes (PBN, 1870-1959), J.H. Noyes' son, sired during the
stirpiculture period with a younger Community woman, Harriet M. Worden P.B. Noyes
was bright and ambitious--a born leader. He reorganized the company's businesses to focus
on tableware manufacturing, and rallied many other male descendants to build a modern
corporation from the ruins of the old Community. P. B. Noyes married another stirpicult,
Corinna Ackley [Noyes] (1872-1968), who was in fact, JHN's granddaughter on her maternal
side. The couple made their home in Kenwood, New York near the old Community factories
and OCMH. They became the "King and Queen" of the re-born business, which steadily
grew and prospered, and of the reconstituted social circle of descendants. (11) In the 1930s,
Pierrepont B. Noyes handed over the leadership of the corporation to his equally able and
ambitious son-in-law, Miles Robertson, who continued the policy of editing and censoring the
OC story.
The other keeper of the legacy was George Wallingford Noyes (1870-1941). He was an exact
contemporary of PBN, also a stirpicult child, born to George Washington Noyes (JHN's
younger brother) and Tirzah Miller, (JHN's niece, daughter of Charlotte Noyes Miller).
George Wallingford Noyes worked for Oneida Community, Ltd., but his real passion was
preserving and interpreting the records of the former Oneida Community, to which he was
entrusted by his first cousin, Theodore Noyes. After a time George Wallingford Noyes
retired from the corporation and began systematically organizing the OC's archival legacy.
His first two books dealt with the evolution of Noyes' religious views. He also exerted
control over the first authorized biography of JHN which was generally respectful of the OC
and its founder. (12) Before his untimely death in 1941, George Wallingford Noyes planned
four more volumes on the OC. He knew that conflict over the Community's legacy existed.
Because of this conflict he prepared typescripts of selected primary sources and scattered
four or five copies of these among various trusted friends and institutions. Only one (partial)
copy survived.
After his death, various company executives (most of them descendants of the OC) entered
George Wallingford Noyes' home and burned all of the Community records in the fireplace. It
took three days.(13) With the destruction of these documents, which Community members
had so self-consciously prepared and preserved (even learning a type of shorthand in the
1870s in order to be able to do accurate, word-for-word transcriptions of meetings), the most
valuable resource of the Community's legacy perished in the flames. (14)
Why were the records burned? What was the basis of the conflict over the Oneida
Community's legacy at this time? Essentially, it involved a business point of view versus a
socio-religious point of view. Those descendants and corporate managers working to make
the business a success were disinclined to allow any publicity that would sully the
wholesome family image that the corporation's advertisements promoted. Nothing could be
permitted to harm the business. (15)
In addition to sensitivity about OC sexual practices, the corporate leaders had another
problem. OC members had forthrightly called themselves "Bible Communists". In the
virulent anti-Communism of the 1950s (McCarthy) period in America, that name would not
do. It contaminated the patriotic reputation that the corporation had so carefully constructed
during World War II when it temporarily converted from tableware manufacture to the
production of war-related materials. Any association with Communism was repugnant. So,
the businessmen sought to suppress both the socio-religious and economic content of its
predecessor, the Oneida Community.
Whereas the founding generation of the OC had viewed its various business ventures as a
secondary means to an end--the end being the building of an Eden on earth--the second
generation made business its primary pursuit. Probably George Wallingford Noyes had had a
pretty lonely vigil, trying to preserve the archives of what he considered a noble socioreligious legacy. In any case, he died before Pierrepont B. Noyes. The corporate point of
view prevailed. Ah, but did it?
The Oneida Community Legacy Reexamined: 1970 - Present
This brings me to the fourth chapter of the Oneida legacy. As we well know, each generation
brings its own concerns and sensibilities to its interpretation of history. Circumstances
change, and so do the principal actors in the historical pageant. During the last decades of the
twentieth century, everything changed for the Oneida legacy.
First, the United States was gripped by a youth rebellion and a reexamination of many of its
values, including social and sexual behaviors. Some of these rebellious youth were, in fact, the
great-grandchildren of the OC founders. They were not as cautious or fearful of their family
history as their elders. They adopted a more open attitude regarding their legacy, and invited
others (the feared "outsiders") to study their heritage. A new generation of outside scholars,
themselves motivated by interests in social change, began to study and publish their findings
regarding the OC.
At Oneida, Ltd., a similar shift occured. A new generation of managers, with a modern and
internationalist perspective, took charge. It was no longer sufficient to rely primarily on
descendants' sons and sons-in-law for upper management. In 1981 the first non-descendant
became CEO of Oneida, Ltd. (16) Fearing a hostile takeover or an unsympathetic merger in
the wake of these changes, the descendants of the OC realized that they had to take steps to
protect the beloved Mansion House, which had been a benevolent project of the corporation
for so long. Because it was a financial drain on the company, it might be sold, or worse, it
could be torn down!
In 1988 Oneida Ltd. donated the building and the grounds of the OC to Oneida Community
Mansion House, Inc., a not-for-profit, tax-exempt corporation with an essentially educational
and service mission. OCMH is made up mainly of descendants who took responsibility for
the substantial upkeep of the Mansion House. Having lost a good portion of the corporate
subsidy, they needed new sources of income to maintain the Mansion House. This required a
reexamination of the legacy of the Oneida Community itself. These developments led
eventually to historic landmark status for the Mansion House and ambitious plans for a
museum and interpretive center to tell the story of the OC. Architects, educators, museum
experts, archivists, curators, grant-writers, scholars and more were enlisted to help the
Mansion House and the Oneida Community legacy make the transition into the twenty-first
century. In 2000, an Interpretive Plan was developed. One question that still remains is to
what extent the radical religious and sexual/social content of the original Community will be
scrubbed and and sanitized for twenty-first century visitors. Giles Wayland-Smith, a fourthgeneration descendant and President of OCMH, sees it as the "third incarnation", the first
being the original OC, and the second Oneida, Ltd. Wayland-Smith interprets the OCMH
mission as "not just maintaining the building and the story of the original Community, but
also continuing the values and the dialogue that the Community began, e.g., on issues like the
organization of the family, child-rearing, gender, and workplace." (17)
The final piece in the evolution of the Oneida legacy is perhaps the most remarkable.
Although scholars and descendants believed that almost all the primary sources of the OC had
been burned during the infamous arson of 1941, it gradually became evident that many
grandchildren and great-grandchildren held precious primary documents which "Uncle George"
[Wallingford Noyes] had never had possession of. Eventually most descendants were
persuaded to donate these documents to the Special Collections Department of the nearby
Syracuse University Library, where they became available to public scrutiny in 1993. These
primary documents comprise 78 boxes of material--much of it letters, because OC members
often wrote to each other, even though they lived under the same roof!
Because of the availability of these new materials, several revisions of the Oneida legacy have
recently been published (18), the most astonishing of which is an intimate personal diary of
Tirzah Miller (George Wallingford Noyes' mother* and JHN's niece) in which she chronicled a
year and a half of her love life during her thirties. She and all the girls of her generation were
initiated into sex by JHN; many remained emotionally loyal to him for the rest of their lives.
Her diary is a frank chronicle of sexual intrigue, jealousy and manipulation (much of it
cynically managed and encouraged by JHN and his sister, Harriet Noyes Skinner, the leading
woman of the OC). Miller's diary indicates that many of OC's second generation were in
thrall to their numerous sexual adventures and to their secret, forbidden attachments. Miller's
snapshot of the OC in the 1870s is quite different from the decorous public face the OC
presented to the public through its newspaper, books, and pamphlets. Her memoir is but the
first in a new revisionist history to be revealed by scholars of the OC, based on the
availability of the new materials, as well as on new perspectives that are emerging in graduate
disciplines. More revisions will appear, and hopefully, some interpretations will be written
by descendants themselves. The OC legacy will continue to unfold.
*His mother's memoir is one of the sources GWN managed to save.
Conclusions and Questions
I have used the Oneida Community as an example of the perils of establishing a legacy
because its history is so colorful and its narrative is so compelling. Yet I raised the example
with another purpose in mind: to pose questions about a community's legacy. From this brief
summary of the conflicting interpretations of the Oneida Community over the past 120 years,
we can conclude that many external circumstances impinge upon a community's legacy,
probably overwhelming whatever the actual communards might have hoped or intended.
This conclusion leads me to the questions which I raised at the beginning of the paper: Can a
community control or even influence its legacy? If yes, how? If not, why not? Is control of
one's legacy even a desirable goal for a community?
I cannot answer these questions. Perhaps people in the audience would like to share their
views during the discussion period.
FOOTNOTES
1) The Oneida Community Journal, a quarterly, has been published continuously since 1986
by OCMH. It contains reports about the nonprofit corporation which oversees OCMH, as
well as news of OC descendants. It is one of the contemporary instruments for molding the
OC legacy. See also John B. Teeple and the Oneida Community Historical Committee, The
Oneida Family: Genealogy of a 19th Century Perfectionist Commune (Cazenovia, N.Y.:
Gleaner Press, 1985) which traces up to four generations of OC descendants, many of whom
intermarried.
2) Marlyn Klee-Hartzell, "The Oneida Community Family," in Communal Societies, v. 16
(1996),15-22, based on Oneida Association, Bible Communism (Brooklyn, N.Y.: Office of the
Circular, 1853), 1-35. OC scholar Lawrence Foster believes that J. H. Noyes' first priority
was not building a Perfectionist community, but rather, publishing his theological views in the
various publications which the OC supported. (Personal conversation with the author.)
There may be some truth to this interpretation, as Noyes later testified that with his 1838
marriage to Harriet Holton," . . .besides herself, . . .I obtained money enough to build me a
house and a printing-office, and to buy a press and type." Robert Allerton Parker, A Yankee
Saint: John Humphrey Noyes and the Oneida Community (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons,
1935), 64.
3) Teeple, 1.
4)see Marlyn Klee-Hartzell, "Family Love, True Womanliness, Motherhood, and the
Socialization of Girls in the Oneida Community, 1848-1880," in Wendy E. Chmielewski,
Louis J. Kern, and Marlyn Klee-Hartzell, eds., Women in Spiritual and Communitarian
Societies in the United States (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1993), 184-200.
5) One such joiner was James Herrick who "left wife and children and a high church pulpit in
New York City to come to the Community and thereafter his wife taught his children that
their father was insane." Pierrepont Burt Noyes, My Father's House: An Oneida Boyhood
(New York: Farrar & Rinehart, Inc.: 1937), 28. At the time of the Break-Up, JHN put
considerable energy and money into helping Herrick get a divorce from his long-suffering wife,
and then matched him in marriage to Noyes' favorite lover and niece, Tirzah Miller.
6) George Bernard Shaw wittily remarked about the stirpiculture experiment, that "the
question of what sort of man they should strive to breed [was] settled at once by the obvious
desirability of breeding another [J.H.] Noyes." (JHN, in fact, sired nine of the 58 stirpicult
children, more than any other OC man.) Shaw took an interest in the OC and perhaps
intended to do a study of it. He was very skilfully thrown off the scent by a formidable OC
descendant, Hope Emily Allen. With her successful intervention, we are thus deprived of
what would probably have been Shaw's highly original and entertaining interpretation of the
OC. see Hope Emily Allen and George Bernard Shaw correspondence, 1924, Box 77, Oneida
Community Collection, Syracuse University Library, Special Collections.
7) see Lawrence Foster, Women, Family, and Utopia: Communal Experiments of the Shakers,
the Oneida Community, and the Mormons (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press,
1991), 103-120.
8) Issaac G. Reed, Jr., "The Oneida Community of Free Lovers," Frank Leslie's Illustrated
Newsletter, April 2, 1870, 38 ff. Reed observed". . . a considerable amount of money is
expended in and about the town by the believers . . .; so that it is next to an impossibility to
induce an inhabitant of the town of Oneida to utter any opinion, save a favorable one. . ."
One young woman whose sister worked for the OC silk-works said "they were as nice a
people as any girl ever worked for." The landlord of the Oneida town hotel remarked: "there
were very nice people--a very nice and hospitable people, indeed; who knew how to make
money and when to keep it, and when to spend it."
9) Constances Noyes Robertson, Oneida Community: The Breakup, 1876-1881 (Syracuse,
N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1972) is a good source. She was a granddaughter of JHN
and daughter of PBN. Her husband, Miles Robertson, was CEO of Oneida, Ltd., 1930s-1960.
She fiercely guarded the reputation of the OC and the corporation as she saw fit. In 1971 she
refused the author's access to primary sources of the OC, because "unfortunate experiences
[of interpretation by outsiders] have made it necessary to make rules [non-access to sources]
and to keep them." (Personal letter to the author, March 4, 1971). It is possible that this was
her rule alone, and not the formal decision of any official committee of descendants.
10) Parker, 290-92 and Maren Lockwood Carden, Oneida: Utopian Community to Modern
Corporation (New York, N.Y.: Harper & Row, 1971), 119-24.
11) Author's interview with President of OCMH, Giles Wayland-Smith, a fourth-genetration
descendant of the OC, March, 2001. In his boyhood memoir, op. cit., P.B. Noyes remarked
that "the pressure to elevate the love emotion [among stirpicult children, away from their
biological parents and toward an abstract communal love] reacted with us as a suppression
and, at least in my own case, oriented my interest toward material things.", My Father's
House, 72.
12) George Wallingford Noyes' two published works on the OC are: Religious Experience of
John Humphrey Noyes, founder of the Oneida Community (New York; Macmillan, 1923)
and John Humphrey Noyes, the Putney Community (Oneida, N.Y.: privately published,
1931). The authorized biography is by Parker, previously cited.
13) File #50, Boxes 8 and 9, Maren Lockwood Carden [1961] interviews, Oneida Community
collection, Syracuse University Library, Department of Special Collections. This interview
was with Pierrepont "Pete" Trowbridge Noyes, who said that GWN's collection amounted to
one-half the space of his office, and included cross-indexed materials. PTN and Robert
Wayland-Smith, both executives of Oneida, Ltd., read some of the materials before they were
burned. PTN said that they covered "the problems of daily life" at the OC. A fourthgeneration descendant told the author that as the fireplace ashes were carried from the house,
the carpet became covered with fine, white dust. and a path of footprints through it. This
image has apparently haunted some descendants.
14) The Oneida Circular of December 9, 1867 enumerated the variety and volume of the
records the OC retained: ". . .The Oneida Community will need a fireproof building before
long for its archives. The accumulation of papers is incredible. . ." The article mentioned
among its holdings: daily journals; correspondence and transactions; transcriptions of "HomeTalks" by JHN; reports of evening conversations and family criticism; personal testimony
and confession; and foreign correspondence. It is believed that all sexual intimacies were
recorded as well (probably by JHN's sister and chief enforcer among the women, Harriet
Noyes Skinner). Carden, 54
15) Geoffrey Noyes, great-grandson of John Humphrey Noyes, related to the author the
story of his aunt's [Constance Noyes Robertson, whose father, husband and brother each
headed the corporation at different periods] reaction to a somewhat titillating article by
Donovan Fitzpatrick, "Father Noyes and His Fabulous Flock" in True; a Man's Magazine,
March 1960, which she felt might damage the company's image. She chauffeured her teenaged
nephew, Geoffrey Noyes, around the environs of Oneida, N.Y. where she dispatched him into
all the newsstands/drugstores, to buy up every copy of the offending magazine. See also the
Allen-Shaw correspondence, op.cit., footnote 6, for Shaw's pithy characterization of the
shame of some OC corporate descendants (specifically that of Pierrepont B. Noyes), and
their attempts to suppress the OC's legacy.
16) Spencer Klaw, Without Sin: The Life and Death of the Oneida Community (New York:
The Penguin Press, 1993), 290.
17) Interview with the author, March 2001.
18) Robert Fogarty, ed., Desire & Duty at Oneida: Tirah Miller's Intimate Memoir
(Bloomington, Ind.: University of Indiana Press, 2000). Other recent books which challenge a
sanitized version of the OC include: Jane Kinsley Rich, ed., A Lasting Spring: Jessie Catherine
Kinsley, Daughter of the Oneida Community (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press,
1983); Spencer Klaw, op. cit. footnote # 16; and Robert Fogarty, ed., Special Love/Special
Sex: An Oneida Community Diary (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1994)
______________________________________________________________
The author has elected not to publish a separate bibliography for this paper, but has made
every effort to include mention of much of the recent scholarship on the OC in the footnotes.
Dr. Marlyn McGary Klee, 6/2001
Some useful websites and addresses are:
1) For OC photos from Syracuse U. Library collection:
http://libwww.syr.edu/digital/collection/oneida/photos/ocphotos.htm
2) To reach Special Collections Department of Syracuse University Library:
[email protected]
3) To reach Carolyn A. Davis, Head of the Special Collections Department at Syracuse
University Library:
[email protected]
4) To reach Bruce Moseley, Executive Director of OCMH:
[email protected]
5) To reach the OCMH website and e-mail address:
website: www.oneidacommunity.orge-mail: [email protected]
6) To reach Giles Wayland-Smith, President of OCMH:
[email protected]
7)
Oneida Community Mansion House
Oneida, N.Y. 13421
telephone: (315) 363-0745
Kibbutz. From Idealism to Pragmatism
David Merron
On my recent visit to Israel, I phoned a friend at a kibbutz up north. ‘Well, that’s it,’ he said.
‘From Sunday next, we are no longer a kibbutz. The bank has taken over and we are just
working to eat and pay off the debts.’
This was not an isolated incident. The whole kibbutz movement is in deep crisis. Very many
kibbutzim are no longer economically viable and the failure of the younger generation to
continue the project has created an insoluble social and manpower situation. As a result some
kibbutzim have already cased to be communal settlements and it is highly probable that in the
near future, only a minority will remain recognisable kibbutzim as we have known them.
Perhaps no more than a handful.
It would seem that the Kibbutz movement, after reaching great heights to become a shining
beacon world-wide, has like a Supernova consumed its essential material and is now collapsing
in on itself.
How is it that a once idealistic and vibrant movement of over 200 settlements has in the space
of some twenty years come to this sorry state? More importantly, what are the lessons that
can be drawn from this?
Many blame the decline on the financial disaster of the late '80's and the subsequent economic
collapse, when kibbutz movement central funds were squandered on a stock market failure
(though how that was allowed to happen was symptomatic). These were however merely
accelerating factors however and whilst writing my book Collectively Yours, I realised that I
was describing the start of this decline in the fifties and sixties.
So what, one might say? Kibbutz has had a good run and has provided inspiration and moral
support to communal societies world-wide. And in the wider scheme of things, does it
matter? I believe that it does, and that what has happened is relevant to all communal societies
as will be outlined in the conclusion.
The present situation in the kibbutzim has in my opinion been brought about by:
1. Dedication to national pioneering tasks
2. Changing socio-economic and political situation in Israel
3. Changing kibbutz population, through unselective absorption large numbers of noncommitted new members.
1. National Pioneering Tasks
The origins of the kibbutzim were in a few small agricultural communes in the early 1900’s
with an ethos of an intellectual peasantry and egalitarian principles, in what was then northern
Palestine. In the twenties and thirties, partly from the impetus of the Russian revolution their
number rapidly expanded. Unlike many communes which deliberately set themselves apart
from mainstream society, the kibbutz wanted to be an integral part of the rebirth of the
Jewish people in its homeland.
Spearheading this return to the soil the kibbutz became all things to everyone and were
expected to do everything: draining the swamps, taming the mountains, making the desert
bloom, defending the borders and providing cheap food in the early years of the State. With
their idealism and social cohesion, only they could have settled remote inhospitable areas and
stuck. it out.
The kibbutzim became the darlings of the country and of Zionist movement, and perhaps
unique for alternative communal settlements, an integral part of the establishment, (with the
paradox of wealthy American Jews willingly donating money to Marxist Leninists of the
Artzi kibbutzim!). Though their communal, egalitarian values were grudgingly respected, they
were loved not for what they were, but for what they were doing.
There was nothing new in this phenomenon. Throughout history, communal movements with
their idealism and social cohesiveness were often exploited by establishments to further their
aims, e.g. the Tabori of Bohemia by the Hussites to fight the Holy Roman Empire, the
Levellers in Cromwell’s New Model Army, and various communal groups in colonising
America. Inevitably, having done their job they were ostracised or destroyed by those very
establishments – much as the kibbutz is being marginalised, discredited and economically
destroyed through the banks by the Israeli establishment today.
Nevertheless, even those of us who saw the communal enterprise as the essential purpose,
succumbed to the thrill and took pride in carrying out these pioneering tasks. Unfortunately,
fulfilling these functions served to deflect the emphasis and energies of kibbutz from its true
purpose; that of developing and consolidating the ideals of an alternative communal society.
2. Changing socio-economic situation in Israel.
During the British mandate and the early years of the State, Israeli society had a socialdemocratic nature with prominent workers movements, etc. From the Fifties onwards, the
emphasis changed to that of a full-blown market economy. This occurred in agriculture as well
with creation of large scale private farms based on seasonal hired labour, ostensibly reducing
the economic importance of the kibbutzim.
After the Six Day War, with the feeling of security and the role of defence taken over entirely
by army, border kibbutzim seemed less vital.
.Kibbutzim were associated with the European ‘old timers’, allied to the ruling Mapai Labour
party. The mass immigration of Oriental Jews with little modern political understanding
allowed the rise of demagogic nationalism and of the right wing Likud party which had no
connection or sympathy with the kibbutz movement. In addition most kibbutzim were in the
opposition Peace Movement camp.
In this changed political environment, although the financial crash at the end of the eighties
affected many sections of the Israeli economy, when the banks pressed for repayment of
loans, the kibbutzim with their ‘collateral’ of land were a soft target and the right wing
establishment had no wish to help them out
Notwithstanding the influence of all these factors, had the kibbutz membership been
sufficiently strong and resolved, with a ‘battening down of hatches’ and conviction of
purpose they could have weathered these storms. The fact that they could not was due to the
changing nature of their population.
3. The Changing Population.
In the inter-war years, the kibbutz movement expanded and was consolidated through a
steady flow of highly committed idealists who were the results of a severe selection and selfselection process in Central European youth movements. Owing to the shortage of land and
settlement funds, along with establishing new kibbutzim, there was also an organic
reinforcement of the existing kibbutzim,
In every kibbutz there had always been a periphery, but it was small and uninfluential and the
essential character was maintained by a committed, idealistic majority core. In the early fifties
however, the situation changed radically with a rapid expansion of the uncommitted
periphery, as described below.
As a result of the Holocaust, the traditional Zionist youth movements were practically wiped
out, cutting off the flow of idealistic reinforcements. After the war, the few members
remaining coalesced into new groups but these were augmented by large numbers of survivors
heading for Palestine. For most of these, the idea of kibbutz was an attractive option. It
offered a surrogate family and community for that which had been destroyed, as well as
security in starting a new life in a strange and difficult country. Whilst accepting and paying
lip service to kibbutz ideals and way of life, this new membership had undergone very little
selection and had no real deeper education of, or commitment to its principles.
With the creation of the new State, over a few short years these relatively large numbers were
added to the kibbutz movement, many of them in small widely dispersed settlements along
the borders, where the national tasks often took precedence. A side effect was that the older
kibbutzim were no longer provided with reinforcement groups.
For the new immigrants, as long as the kibbutz provided a secure environment, integrating
them into the new country and allowing them to learn the language and new trades, they went
along with the kibbutz way of life. But as time passed and they became established and more
confident, some left for town and most of those that remained added to the periphery.
To this new unselective influx were added large numbers from Israeli youth movements. In the
pre-state Israeli movements, there was also a selection process prior to their going to kibbutz.
With compulsory military service however, whole groups now went to the army, and without
any selection process came into the kibbutzim primarily as social groupings,(khevreh).
Having only a small principled nucleus, for most of these kibbutz became a ‘time out’ before
either moving back to town and career or remaining in the kibbutz just as somewhere to live
and work.
The result of both these influxes was that in most kibbutzim, a large periphery, unselected
and having no ideological depth now often outnumbered the idealistic core.
This enlarged periphery radically altered the character of the kibbutz causing:
a) a neglect of basic kibbutz principles, and
b) the disenchantment of the younger generation.
a) Neglect of Kibbutz Principles.
For the periphery, raising the standard of living and building a successful economy to support
this became the prime motives. Creating and consolidating an alternative, communal society
was not their main concern. The periphery was conscious of the rising standard of living in
the towns, and principles that interfered or became awkward to maintain were abandoned in
the pursuit of a higher standard of living and economic success. Pragmatism had eventually
burst through their thin veneer of idealism. (It is symbolic that during this time, the term
‘meshek’ -farm, become common parlance in lieu of ‘kibbutz’). The idea that the benefits and
satisfaction gained from communal living and creating a new society would more than
compensate for a possible lower standard of living than in town, was an anathema to this
periphery.
The emphasis on economic success led to an increase in hired labour. Through fear of losing
members, breaches of sharing and equality through receiving presents and personal money
were ignored. Profitability had become the main aim and this also led to each branch striving
for its own success as opposed to integration into the general scheme. Many kibbutzim
neither assessed nor established new industries in accordance with their own manpower
resources and as a result, further unselective absorption took place to provide the industrial
hands required, or more hired labour was employed.
The concentration on economic success also led to the differential valuing of work – the most
profitable branches becoming the most important. The result was the devaluing of 'services'
branches, and the confining of women to these services branches through ‘economic
necessity’. This in turn exacerbated problem of women in the kibbutz, with the result that
even many women originally committed to communal living became disillusioned, devoted
more to the family room and added to those calling for the abolition the children’s houses and
communal dining room
The abandoning of principles led to a weakening of social cohesiveness and mutual respect
and responsibility together with lack of willingness to accept responsibilities. This rebounded
on the ‘economists’ as the periphery, lacking communal responsibility readily agreed to
unsecured bank loans, not for investment but to raise standard of living. The breakdown of
mutual responsibility also led to lack of communal efforts such as projects in children’s
houses, a reluctance to turn up for seasonal mobilisations, etc.
A side effect of this concentration on economic success was the creation an economic/financial
hierarchy, instead of a rotation of functionaries essential for true democracy.
The net result of the above process was a constant struggle of the principled, idealistic and
now minority nucleus to try and maintain kibbutz principles, against the inertia of the large
periphery. It was wearing and usually ended up in a rearguard action. In addition the
scattering of population in many small settlements led to splitting up of idealistic cores into
small fragments that were even more susceptible to erosion. (It didn’t help that in each
kibbutz, this nucleus was further depleted as some of its central figures were absorbed into
the education system.)
The ‘economists' primacy extended up to kibbutz federation level, and it is most probable
that the lack of a principled moral control allowed the unsupervised stock market speculation
resulting in the subsequent financial debacle.
The end result of the above processes, was that by the eighties the kibbutz movement had
lost much of its character and idealism. As the ex-partisan kibbutz poet Abba Kovner had
once put it : ‘The shekhinah, the guiding spirit, has gone out from the kibbutz . . .’
b. The Effect on the Younger generation.
The success of any society is in its perpetuation by the younger generation and in this the
kibbutz was found severely wanting. Certainly, no one ever anticipated that all kibbutz
children would return, especially after they’d been through the army, (many of them
incidentally suffering from unrecognised post traumatic stress disorder), and then travelling
the world. (As an old song put it: ‘How you gonna keep ‘em down on the farm, after they’ve
seen Paree . . ?‘) But how was it though that only a minority came back and many of these
not for positive reasons? How was it that so few saw the kibbutz as a place to build their
future? Is California - where there are probably now as many ex-kibbutz children as in the
kibbutz movement - a better place to raise a family?
There is obviously a raft of external influences to this mass desertion: the world-wide drift
from the country to the town, the emphasis of national pioneering tasks in lieu of communal
living, the pursuit of the illusory individualism of egoism and narcissism, etc. It is also true
that in some kibbutzim, a hierarchy of functionaries were loath to give up the reins or allow
new ideas from children returning from the army.
The two major influences on the young not wishing to continue the enterprise however, both
stem from the effect of the large uncommitted periphery in their parents’ generation. They
were:
1. lack of personal conviction and example, and
2. lack of specific education to kibbutz values.
1. Lack of personal example.
Children readily sense hypocrisy and double standards. Even from their early years, they
would have sensed the dissatisfaction of their nurses in the children’s houses, arising from the
general problem of the women in the kibbutz and exacerbated as outlined above. In successful
religious communities, the young see their parents practising exactly what they preach. The
periphery majority however did not practise their principles and at the most gave only lip
service to communal ideals. Though there were many sincere and principled kibbutzniks who
were role models, they were seen as the minority and known to be fighting a permanent
rearguard action against the laissez-faire direction of the kibbutz as a whole.
Why then should the younger generation be expected return to carry on the struggle, when the
kibbutz was already losing its way? Many children also sensed their own parents’ regrets at
staying in the kibbutz and had this confirmed when they wanted to leave themselves, (e.g.
leavers quoted in the book Kibbutz LA who said their parents wanted their children ‘to do
better’.).
2. The lack of specific education to kibbutz.
In a kibbutz movement magazine article, a boy questions his teacher how come that he’d had
no specific education to kibbutz. To his amazement, his teacher couldn’t explain why. . .
It is said that one person’s education is another’s indoctrination but any society wishing to
perpetuate its values and ensure its continuation, does so through educating its next
generation. All education in one way or another is directed or biased. So it should have been in
the kibbutz. Religious communities have no problem with a specific education towards their
values. We may criticise their actual doctrines but kibbutz values and communal living is a
faith too - a secular faith, different and distinct from religion – or from that of the surrounding
society, and one that had to be perpetuated through educating the young. The periphery
though, through having no deeper belief in kibbutz values had a fear of ‘indoctrination’, lacked
faith in a specific kibbutz education system and hesitated in implementing a system which
would ensure this.
In essentially wanting the kibbutz to be ‘like all the others’, the periphery were only too
willing to revert to the general syllabus and abandon the holistic, project based character
education, etc. system of the kibbutz. In particular there was a lack of specific education and
emotional involvement in kibbutz values in a suitable and enjoyable way in kindergarten and
primary education. Discussions about kibbutz at secondary level in kibbutz high schools were
useful but came far too late.
This is not the place to engage in a deeper debate about the rights and wrongs of the children’s
houses etc., but it was the periphery that caused the stampede towards abandoning the
‘children’s society’ and collective education system.
In secondary education, the periphery set the agenda and emptied the education system of
specific kibbutz content. In reverting to the stereotypical Jewish parents' obsession for their
children to enter the professions, they insisted on the general syllabus and educating towards
‘bagrut’ exams. The kibbutz movement itself was also at fault in not advancing the cause of
the Open University and mature student entry as was becoming common in many countries.
This would have been much more suited to kibbutz, but the periphery had no interest in this
either.
Kibbutz ideals valued all work equally in that trades, crafts, manual work etc. was equal to the
professions, but the periphery had no adherence to these principles. The kibbutz high school
originally set aside time each day for work in the various branches of the kibbutz, an essential
part of education and identification with the community. The periphery saw this as ‘lost
learning time’ and it was abandoned.
The net result of the factors outlined above, was that the younger generation lacked emotional
and ideological commitment to kibbutz ideals and thus the will to perpetuate a society which
they saw as flawed and declining anyway.
The flight of the kibbutz children has led to an ever growing number of kibbutzim becoming
geriatric institutions. With few idealists joining and the continued unselective acceptance of
new members to somehow keep up the numbers, the periphery will continue to grow and
eventually lead to the demise of the kibbutz as a communal egalitarian society.
Conclusion
We asked at the outset, does the demise of the kibbutz matter? I believe it does.
Conventional wisdom maintains that communal societies are for peripheral religious sects or a
transient phase for a bunch of youngsters who will eventually ‘come to their senses.’
Kibbutz, having been a large scale success story of a secular communal society, demonstrated
the possibility of a permanent community living by the principles of co-operation, sharing,
equality and mutual responsibility, as opposed to aggressive competition, the success ethos
and authoritarianism. They served as a beacon of what Oscar Wilde called: ‘the Utopia
towards which we have to sail’. The failure of the kibbutz therefore will unfortunately
reinforce this negative accepted wisdom that ‘from each according to their ability to each
according to their needs’ is against human nature, which is acquisitive and competitive and
hierarchical.
Lessons.
There is no scientific proof that human beings are naturally co-operative, peaceful, egalitarian
or mutually supportive. It is a matter of belief that they are and communal societies embody
those values. Communal living is not a sociological experiment. It is not an intellectual
exercise. It is an act if faith, (which is perhaps why religious communes find it easier to be
successful - they have had more practice). What has occurred in the kibbutzim demonstrates
what happens when a majority that does not have that faith or a sincere belief in its values,
gains control of a communal society. Neither academic studies nor organisational and
procedural changes will enable a communal society to survive unless the vast majority of its
members have that faith and believe in those values.
By understanding the causes of these processes, future communal societies may learn to do
better. The principle lesson however, is that any communal society, surrounded as it always
will be by those with different values, can only survive if the vast majority of its members are
firmly convinced and sincerely believe in its ideals and way of life, and above all practice what
they preach.
From this it is follows that in order to survive and develop, an alternative communal society
must have a continual severe selection process for new members, as well as a clearly directed
education system that will imbue the younger generation with an emotional attachment to
those ideals, leading to a wish to perpetuate that society.
Additional notes.
Collective Education.
Recent years have seen concerted attacks and lurid literature on 'horrors' of collective
education', child abuse etc. My own kibbutz cannot be exceptional in that I cannot recall one
incident of abuse or subsequent accusation. Yes, some children were disturbed – but one could
see this at the time because of the parents. As a therapist in Haifa remarked to me: Collective
education is a convenient peg on which to hang any complexes. My two older children passed
through it and look back on it fondly, especially the early years of the children’s house. (And
if it was so bad, have you ever seen a starving ex-kibbutz kid?)
Town Communes
There is a trend to concentrate now on town communes as a new alternative. But will they be
middle class enclaves of architects., social workers, computer specialists, etc, leaving the
building, engineering, labouring and food growing to the uneducated working class and the
Third World? And is there no recognition of the ennobling nature of working the soil on the
commune’s own land and of the auto-didact? Are Tolstoy and AD Gordon now considered
irrelevant?
Herrnhut, 1852-89: Australia’s German ‘Moravian’ Commune1
Dr Bill Metcalf
School of Australian Environmental Studies
Griffith University
Brisbane, Australia
This material is copyright and may not be reproduced without the author’s consent.
Australia has a long and rich history of utopian, communal experimentation including
many religious, communist and secular examples. Radical sexual experimentation,
mystical experiences, common property, bizarre dietary experiments, various forms
of leadership, and all the factors found in the better known communal history of USA
and Europe are also to be found in Australian communal groups. Although Australia
never received as many dissenting religious communal groups from Europe as went
to North America, a number of these people did come and establish utopian
communes in Australia.
One of the most interesting of these was Herrnhut commune in western Victoria.
Herrnhut was based on a strange blend of Moravian Christianity, personal charisma,
millenarianism, mysticism and communism. Herrnhut was Australia’s first, and in
many ways one of our most interesting, communes. It was founded by Johann
Friedrich Krumnow in 1852, and lasted until 1889. Herrnhut was mostly comprised of
people who came from the areas of Silesia, Posen and Brandenburg in what is now
eastern Germany and western Poland.
Herrnhut’s Eastern European Religious and Political Background
The Protestant Reformation of the 16th century resulted from and led to religious and
social turmoil throughout Europe. Radical groups such as the Anabaptists emerged
at that time, determined to live in close-knit communal groups because that is what
they believed the Bible told them to do. These radical dissidents were persecuted in
many areas and were forced to seek refuge. In 1722, a religious communal group
came together on the lands of Count Zinzendorf, at Herrnhut, in Moravia. The
Moravians were vehemently opposed by leaders of other religions because they
‘patterned their way of life on the ways of the primitive Christians, [and] were
communists’.2
In 1815, the Congress of Vienna redrew the boundaries of Europe, with many of
those areas of greatest religious foment becoming part of the expanding and
modernising state of Prussia. The Prussian ruler, Friedrich Wilhelm III, then
established a State Church, amalgamating all Lutheran and Calvinist churches. 3
Herrnhut, Page 2
Unable to follow their religious convictions in Prussia, and suffering from religious
persecution and severe financial hardships, many dissenting Protestants, including
Lutherans, Quakers, Pietists, Moravians and Mennonites sought to escape by
emigration. Most of these religious dissidents went to North America because
passages were cheap and farm land was almost free, but a minority came to
Australia.4
One of the early Germans who came to Australia to escape religious persecution
wrote back, using classic utopian prose, urging them to
leave Germany, for there you will remain slaves. … There, you will be a
witness to the death struggles of the old ideas, here you have freedom in the
truest sense of the term. There, upheaval, religious hatred, partisan fury, and
revolution … here there is peace, the plough, the sciences, the establishing
of new cities. There, you are under State despotism, the repression of faith
and thought, oriental tyranny, castes and classes, war and mania for
destruction; here man is … free in faith and opinion, as rich as his hard work
… makes him.5
One dissident who came to Australia to escape religious persecution, and to lead
here what he considered to be a moral Christian life was a small, hunch-backed tailor
with a serious speech impediment, Johann Friedrich Krumnow.
Johann Friedrich Krumnow
Johann Friedrich Krumnow was born in 1811 at Frankfurt-on-Oder in Brandenburg
Province, Prussia. As a child he became committed to both radical socialism and
evangelical Christianity. He moved to Berlin where, in the mid to late 1830s, he
probably joined the Gossner Missions Institute, a training centre to accommodate
evangelical, would-be missionaries who had been rejected elsewhere. The training at
Gossner Missions Institute emphasised personal piety and practical skills more than
theological studies.6
Friedrich Krumnow (as he was known) wanted to become a Lutheran Pastor - but
one with a strongly evangelical, socialistic, millenarian bent. He was barred from this
vocation, officially at least because of his physical deformity (hunch back) and his
unpleasant, nasal voice. He was described as having ‘almost the shape of an ugly
gnome’. It is very unlikely, given Krumnow’s messianic, communistic beliefs, that he
would have been accepted as a Pastor regardless of how he looked and spoke.7
Friedrich Krumnow’s theology and political views were ‘a mixture between Slavic
mysticism and primitive religious beliefs, based on a naive and literal understanding
of certain parts of the bible’. Somehow, this was mixed with communism, producing a
heady brew of religious and political fanaticism. Krumnow anticipated the second
coming of Christ and the Millennium, and until that time, preached that everything
Herrnhut, Page 3
should be held in common and that people should live together as a commune,
eschewing all private property. Krumnow sought to live as he believed that Christ and
His early followers had lived, sharing all food and housing while devoting themselves
to the realisation of an ideal world order. Anarchism also came into the equation, with
Krumnow rejecting State authority, believing himself to be answerable only to God.8
On their four month voyage to South Australia, Krumnow held regular church
services although he was not ordained. He was also school teacher, being
responsible for teaching catechism, bible history and hymn singing to the children. He
seems to have had in mind teaching other things as well, since his behaviour towards
his female students was later said to have been ‘not totally proper’ by one observer,
and ‘indecent’ by another.9
At about this time, Friedrich Krumnow started to publicly identify as a Moravian,
although there is not a shred of evidence that he had any formal connection with that
church.10
The obvious question arises as to why Friedrich Krumnow identified himself as
Moravian when he had no formal connection to them and was, as far as is known,
unknown to the Moravian authorities. There are at least three possible answers.
Firstly, the Moravians were well known at that time for establishing successful
Christian communes in USA and Britain, and given that this is just what Krumnow
hoped to do in Australia, it might have seemed like a useful label to adopt. Krumnow
would certainly have known about Emmaus, Bethlehem, Nazareth, Wachovia and
Lititz, all well-known and well-respected Moravian communes in USA, Fulneck,
Fairfield and Ockbrook in England, and Gracehill in Ireland.11 These Moravian
communes were ‘very successful, earning a reputation for the industriousness of
their members and the quality of their varied products. The Moravian schools gained
particular recognition.’12 To anyone wanting to start a commune, just calling yourself
Moravian might have suggested you were half-way there!
Secondly, Moravians had an admirable reputation for being excellent immigrants, so
perhaps Krumnow hoped that some of that good opinion would rub off onto him if he
adopted their name. The term Moravian was taken up by numerous other migrants to
advance their prospects.13
Thirdly, while Krumnow belonged to the Lutheran Church, and had sought to become
a Lutheran Pastor and Missionary, he had been decisively rejected. Perhaps he saw
the label ‘Moravian’ as a way to distance himself from those Lutherans who were
rejecting him while cloaking his communist ideology in the mantle of Moravian
success?
Herrnhut, Page 4
But, under whatever denominational label and with whatever religious and political
views, Johann Friedrich Krumnow came to Australia - and his impact endures.
Krumnow in Australia
When Friedrich Krumnow and his fellow religious dissenters landed in South
Australia in January 1839, he expected to continue, in the short term, as this group’s
school teacher and unofficial Pastor but he was shunned because of his ship-board
behaviour. Krumnow had to work as a shepherd until he could find other people to
join his utopian, communal venture.14
Krumnow quickly came to demonstrate his passionate, obsessive belief in his divine
calling to establish a new, Godly social order, a Christian commune, in Australia. A
contemporary wrote,
The faith of Krumnow was strong within him. The times were out of joint, he
felt that he was born to set them right. Yet he had no personal gifts to
recommend him. He was short in stature … almost deformed. Krumnow’s
grating voice possessed no notes to stir the souls of men. … He was
uneducated. He had no single quality of nature in his favour. But within this
misshapen body there was a fiery soul. Krumnow had faith in himself, and he
inspired faith in others. … Krumnow was the one who would lead mankind to
better things. So he … carried on the propaganda of … the revolutionary and
socialist.15
In 1850, Krumnow moved to Melbourne where he worked as a tailor. He found more
acceptance and success for his socialist and communalist teachings within this
German migrant community.
In 1852, he gathered about him a small group of zealous followers who came to
share his dream of living together as a religious commune where, like the early
Christians, all things were to be held in common with no private property. They chose
to call their group Gemeine Herrnhut or simply Herrnhut commune, after Herrnhut, in
Saxony, the location of the first Moravian commune. Friedrich Krumnow identified
with this Moravian/Pietist tradition, and tried to strengthen the symbolic connections
to his Australian commune by naming it Herrnhut.16
The objectives of Herrnhut commune were detailed in their Charter which was written
by Friedrich Krumnow, signed by all members, men and women, then registered as
their Declaration of Faith on July 14, 1852.
We, the undersigned, agreeing and accepted in the apostolic doctrine,
hereby bind ourselves to uphold, follow, guard and defend (in the case of
necessity even with our blood) the pure apostolic faith founded on the holy
Word of God. We mutually join and bind ourselves in the bonds of love like
brothers and sisters, and by this document call our brother missionary
Krumnow as our preacher and teacher, to administer to us the holy
Herrnhut, Page 5
sacraments, baptise our children, and to marry those who wish to be married.
We bind by this document our brother Krumnow to adhere to the true
apostolic faith, and under no circumstances to change or alter this doctrine,
and demand of him to preach and teach us the faith, and to watch over our
souls.
[We agree to form ourselves] into a religious Brotherhood or society having
community of goods and for that purpose to purchase a piece of land and to
use it as one undivided farm for [our] common support . …
[Our] purposes [are] charitable … principally to secure the safety of the souls
of … members … by submitting to conform to the mode of thinking and living
described by the society, to provide religious training for the children, and to
keep destitute people and wayfarers.17
A reporter claimed that for these Herrnhut communards ‘withdrawing themselves
from the world, they would seek the Light of the Hereafter, like the communities of
Mount Lebanon and Amana, the Separatists or the Perfectionists of Oneida Creek,
by “living the word” on earth’.18
Krumnow’s followers came from trades such as cobbler, saddle-maker, baker,
vinedresser and tailor, or had been soldiers, farmers or farm workers. All were exLutherans and all had been affected by the establishment of a Prussian State Church
and the suppression of religious freedom. None of Krumnow’s followers had come to
Australia to join him, although some had known him in Prussia, and they seemed to
be prospering as individuals in this new land prior to his arrival in their lives. Why
they then left their farms and businesses, sold and gave everything to this communal
venture, and why they bound themselves to be led by Friedrich Krumnow is
something we shall never know. Krumnow’s oft-mentioned charisma, and his utopian
promise of establishing a ‘true-religion’, and a Godly commune where they would
speak German, be secure until death, and all work for their common good and
salvation were all factors.
Krumnow’s followers, having pooled all their assets, purchased 642 hectares (1584
acres) of Crown Land near Hamilton, 300 kms west of Melbourne, in 1853. Their
newly purchased, communal land was registered by Johann Friedrich Krumnow in
his own name, a fact unknown to his followers. The key legal problem then and for
the duration of Herrnhut commune was that they had not established any legal entity
to hold their property, so everything had, by default, to be done in the name of their
‘pastor’, Friedrich Krumnow. This legal oversight plagued Herrnhut commune
throughout its long history.
Herrnhut Commune
Friedrich Krumnow and his communards moved onto their communal property before
mid 1853. Under their rules, the commune was to provide housing, food and clothing
to all members until they died. Their first shelters were of canvas and bark, but they
Herrnhut, Page 6
soon progressed, erecting simple wooden houses to live in, a timber school and
other timber buildings for farm purposes. They cleared and fenced their property,
cultivated the land, and planted agricultural crops as well as vegetable and fruit
gardens. They bought cattle, pigs and sheep, and learned about farming in Australia.
They worked very diligently because they were creating their utopia.19
In 1854, these communards built their first substantial building, a stone church, able
to hold 100 worshipers. According to a contemporary newspaper report,
thanks to their personal exertions, aided by their energetic parson, the Rev.
J.F. Krumnow, and without any assistance from the Colonial Government,
[they had] completed the erection of a very substantial stone church. The
cost of the building … has been nearly £1,800. … The church is 60 feet [18.3
metres] long by 27 feet [8.2 metres] in width, and the roof is 40 feet [12.2
metres] from the floor”.20
A descendant of these communards described this impressive Herrnhut church:
The construction work was solid and faithfully done.
Eight windows 9’ x 2’6 [2.7m. x 0.8m.] on north and south sides gave the
lighting. At the apex of the coping stone of the eastern gable a white marble
cross three feet [0.9m.] in height was firmly embedded in the stone.
Below, at the base of this gable, were heavy double entrance doors
constructed of blackwood. Above these doors, set against a glass panel, was
18GH54.21 These doors opened with a large old-fashioned iron key and at a
glance revealed the simple dignity of this old chapel. …
Half way down the Church stood the alter [sic] … constructed of stone. …
Over the top of the Alter [sic] … stood the Communion Service 22 … with … a
wooden crucifix with the figure of Christ.
Stone steps led to the octagon shaped pulpit, with its reading desk [and near]
the Alter [sic] stood the baptismal font, carved from one piece of stone.
This old church had remarkable acoustic qualities - the resonance of a single
voice seemed to fill the church with sound.23
The Herrnhut communards dug three deep wells, and lined them with carefully cut
blue-stone. They also dug a large dam to provide water for their stock, and as a lure
to wild ducks and other birds which they then killed and ate. They dug a complex
series of ditches to reclaim some swampy ground. These well-planned ditches and
the dam can still be seen, and the latter still holds water.
As new people arrived, Herrnhut grew to about 60 members who lived communally,
sharing all money and property, although all power was retained by Krumnow. They
had a common kitchen and dining room. August Hildebrandt was the community’s
main cook and baker, with other cooking being the work of several women. Coffee
was their favourite beverage.24
Some communards left to join the nearby Lutheran church of Pastor Schürmann,
while some conventional Lutherans joined Herrnhut commune. Schürmann did
Herrnhut, Page 7
everything he could to denigrate his communal neighbours, claiming that ‘some
women who had earlier been at Krumnow’s and then spent a while with us, told me
… that Krumnow had also gone with them into the bush and had prayed, but about
indecent things’. These allegations of sexual impropriety at Herrnhut were passed
along to other Pastors, and slowly became public knowledge and accepted
wisdom.25
While this religious name-calling was going on, the Herrnhut communards were
busily turning their property into a prosperous farm. They were well-fed and
reasonably content. They built substantial stone houses to replace their small timber
shacks, and a degree of comfort crept in, despite their hard farm work and strict
religious practice.
In 1857, a local newspaper reported that at Herrnhut commune, ‘a very fair quantity
of grain has been raised this season, and the people, proverbially sober and
industrious, are prospering as they deserve to do. We should not be sorry to see a
large increase of our Helvetian friends.’26
But dissension was developing amongst the communards, with several leaving, or
being expelled, in the mid 1850s. Rachel Scholtze, one of the founding Herrnhut
signatories, later claimed,
I was one of the original members of … the Moravian Society. … Krumnow
sent me away … He made other rules than those originally agreed to. He
starved me out. … I have always adhered & do still adhere to the religious
purposes of the Moravian Society.
People live on the land until they die and are maintained - get their food and
clothing without wages, and work the land for their mutual benefit.
When I gave my £53 to the Society I did not expect to get it back again but to
live on the land and be maintained out of it.
I would have remained on the land if Krumnow had not turned me out.27
The split within their communal ranks forced Krumnow, in 1858, to promise ‘to
execute a declaration of trust as to the land at Herrnhut in favour of a religious body
to be established and of which he was the Pastor’. Herrnhut’s governance would
remain theocratic, with Krumnow being their leader because he was the closest to
God (and Krumnow was the authority on such issues!).28
In spite of his numerous faults, Krumnow was a good farm manager. Herrnhut
communards supported themselves comfortably through raising sheep, growing
grain, and selling milk and other farm produce to residents of Hamilton and to the
miners on nearby goldfields. They had a ready market for all their produce, and could
compete very well against their Lutheran neighbours.
Herrnhut, Page 8
Sheep rearing didn’t need much hard work, except for a few weeks each
year when the sheep had to be shorn. There was an abundance of mutton,
and having rather fertile land, there wouldn’t have been a shortage of
vegetables, milk, butter, etc either. By selling the wool they got money to
purchase clothing and other necessities. …
There was no need to work very hard at Herrnhut.
It was often a colourful life in the settlement of Herrnhut, as tramps and
swagmen often dropped in, being greeted with hospitality and allowed to stay
as long as they liked.29
That they could feed themselves, as well as produce and market surplus food, is an
acknowledgment of both the hard work and farming expertise of members, and of
Friedrich Krumnow’s organising abilities. Herrnhut communards were happy, working
together and becoming competent farmers, so their property comfortably supported
them and their numerous visitors.
The 1860s were the high point of Herrnhut commune. Daily life during this period of
relative affluence and comfort was later recalled in glowing terms by Louisa Elmore,
nee Röhr, who was a teenager there at the time, and who figures prominently in
Herrnhut’s latter period.
We were very happy in those days - no pain or trouble seemed to bother us,
plenty of everything, a good warm bed to sleep in. In the ploughing time we
used to get up early to get the cows and bring father the horses. Then we
would feed the cows. Then the men fed the horses. Then we would have
breakfast, then prayers and then to work. Sunday we had always to
ourselves. There was … no milking or cooking on Sunday except potatoes.
They would be washed and placed in the pot Saturday night, then there
would be nothing to do on Sunday after coming from Church, just run the hot
water out of the fountain on to the potatoes and that was all the cooking that
had to be done. The meat would be cooked on Saturday. We used to have
beetroot pickles with this cold meat. … I have thought many a time since of
those peaceful Sundays. I used to spend a good deal of time reading [in] the
schoolroom. … We used to make a good fire in the cold weather and sit by
the fire and read. They did not ask us to help in the kitchen except for meal
times. We would dry up the dishes for the cook.
All the cleaning was done on Saturday. The window cleaning … and cleaning
candlesticks and forks was my work of a Saturday and I used to like it.
Each of us used to do our part of work and we never once thought of jibing
[baulking]. They used to use candles in those days in the schoolroom and I
used to be quite glad of Saturday night when the brass candlesticks used to
look nice and bright. Mary [her sister] used to help Father to clean the books
on Saturday afternoon.30
Because of their commitment to pacifism and doing ‘good works’, Herrnhut commune
became a Mecca of security and peace within the, at times, violent Australian
countryside. Over 300 Aborigines sought protection at Herrnhut, while up to 30
homeless white men were said to have been at Herrnhut at one time. A Travellers’
Hut was built and maintained for their comfort.31
Herrnhut, Page 9
Friedrich Krumnow was said by his critics to be ‘hospitable to a fault. No person ever
left Herrn Hut [sic] without a meal or a bed at night … he liked to be kind to the poor
people, some of whom, particularly the woman kind, used to impose on the old man
to the extent of getting money from him.’32 One of Krumnow’s critics obviously
disapproved of such hospitality by salaciously (and incorrectly) suggesting, ‘Anyone
could find meat and drink at Herrnhut. After a time they could be received into the
community, with the privileges of hard work, coarse food, and the possible share of a
wife.’33
Herrnhut communards did not believe in doctors or medicine. When one member
died, an inquest was convened at which Friedrich Krumnow testified,
I am the Moravian Minister of this place, the deceased was a member of the
Society here. He was taken ill on Tuesday last, we did not send for a doctor
as our religious principles do not authorise the calling in of medical aid for
any internal complaints, we would do so for a broken limb, or an external
wound; if we had sent for a doctor in the present case, we would have been
breaking the laws of our Church and the Rules of the Society - I was with the
deceased on Thursday evening and gave him drink. I did not think he was
about to die, he could always eat his food, only the last three days - I would
not have sent for a doctor even if I had thought he was in a dying state, we
administer no medicine for any internal complaint.
If a brother was ill with an inward complaint, I do not believe that a doctor or
medicine would prolong life or relieve him; it cannot be proved.34
In March 1867, Friedrich Krumnow sought to improve the welfare of local Aborigines
when he appeared with several of them before the Shire Council, arguing for land to
be reserved for these original inhabitants. This was obviously not acceptable
behaviour for a white man! But, perhaps because of Krumnow’s fair treatment of local
Aborigines, Herrnhut did not experience the racial problems faced by some of their
neighbours.35
It was proving to be very expensive to finance this commune and support all
members and their numerous visitors and seekers-of-refuge, so Herrnhut’s collective
debts increased throughout this period.
As is often found in religiously-based communes, members’ and visitors’ time was
highly organised. A large bell was rung at 6 am for the prayers which started the
workday. ‘Anyone who would not join in these devotions could not work on the
property. Krumnow read several chapters from Scripture and prayer was offered’.
Breakfast was at 7 and lunch at 12. Members would then work till dark when a simple
evening meal ended the day. Prayers were held in their church before each meal,
and all members and visitors had to attend. William Shannon, a Quaker, would often
read the lessons in English for the benefit of visitors. Meals were eaten together,
Herrnhut, Page 10
although Krumnow generally ate separately. Krumnow’s ‘faithful followers were
devoted to him, and accepted his preaching and teaching as God’s word’.36
In 1870, 56 year old Samuel Marsden Knight, a free-lance journalist who used the
pen-name of Frederick Elmore, came to visit Herrnhut. He was a relatively welleducated and well-connected English migrant, the nephew of the famous Reverend
Samuel Marsden of New South Wales and New Zealand. Knight’s wife had recently
died, and he was wandering the countryside, healing his grief. Samuel Marsden
Knight’s arrival had a profound, long-term impact on Herrnhut and its communards.
Fred Elmore, as the communards knew him, became Herrnhut’s school teacher.
Herrnhut commune, he later claimed, ‘was inhabited by very simple-minded religious
people … labouring under many great delusions’. Krumnow was, in his opinion, a
truly evil man.37
In spite of his negative impressions, Fred Elmore did not leave Herrnhut because he
fell in love with one of his students, 19 year old Louisa Röhr who had come with her
parents to Herrnhut in 1853. Louisa Röhr soon became pregnant to Fred Elmore so,
in the middle of an early August night in 1872 they eloped to start a new life. They
would later return to Herrnhut where Louisa would succeed Krumnow as leader.
Meanwhile, Herrnhut was plagued with more prosaic problems than the romantic
elopement of one of its young members with her school teacher. Relations between
Herrnhut and their more conventional neighbours was problematic and occasionally
violent, they had lost several members, and the communal farm was no longer so
prosperous, while their debts were increasing. Herrnhut commune generally received
a bad press, one fanciful, almost hysterical, account describing them as ‘a queer
community’, while claiming that ‘community of wives or at least “complex marriages”
were allowed as in … Oneida. Women and young girls toiled in the fields early and
late, some clothed only with an old sack - toiled as hard as any Negro slave. Body
and soul they were under the control of Krumnow’.38 One local resident salaciously
claimed that ‘at times he [Krumnow] used to chain up the women … when they had
done wrong’.39 Following this salacious line, another local resident claimed,
Krumnow did not dwell all the time on a spiritual plane, but also had strong
fleshly appetites. As head of the colony, he demanded that any of the
women, including the wives of other members, should be honoured to share
his bed, and … many of the Herrnhut children bore a marked physical
resemblance to him.40
Another critic commented, ‘One is surprised not to see more children, until you
remember that matrimony is always discouraged by the German communistic
societies, and that here the practice of the Perfectionists of Oneida Creek was
instituted by Krumnow.’ The ‘practice’ referred to was birth control.41
Herrnhut, Page 11
There is no conclusive evidence about the sexual practices at Herrnhut although
rumours of Krumnow’s sexual appetite and proclivities, ranging from paedophilia to
demanding sexual access to all the women, endured and plagued the group, and are
still part of the accepted folk wisdom of many local people.
Things were clearly deteriorating at Herrnhut in the mid 1870s when the communards
again demanded to see the legal title to the land which they believed to now be in
their collective names, only to discover that Krumnow still held title in his own name
rather than as a trustee for the community. No doubt, Krumnow saw himself as
holding this property in trust for the use of his communards. This might not have
been such a big issue during the commune’s early, more enthusiastic phase, but as
members aged, it became a very contentious point. Several members left Herrnhut
over this incident but the commune struggled on. Krumnow was losing his grip on his
followers, and the commune was beginning to break up.
Krumnow desperately sought new members to fill Herrnhut’s empty houses and help
work their communal land, but few people were interested in joining. Herrnhut’s
members were ageing, and there were not enough younger members to take over
the farm work.
In 1876, in the eyes of Friedrich Krumnow, a ‘God-sent’ miracle happened when he
took over Hill Plain, another commune in the district, and moved about 30 new
members to Herrnhut.
Hill Plain commune had been created in 1875 by Maria Heller, a German mystic, and
her followers. Maria Heller had frequent ‘fits’ during which God spoke to and through
her. One of the many prophecies which she received was that she would ‘give birth
to the two witnesses of the Lord mentioned in Revelations of John (XI, 3) and
thereafter it would be her destination to rule on this earth’.42
One of Heller’s earliest and most devoted followers explained,
I have known her [Heller] about five years. … She has nearly always had
these fits. … When she is in a trance she has conversations with heavenly
spirits. I believe that is as true as that there is a God in heaven. I am
convinced the spirit of our Saviour converses with her in the same manner as
is mentioned in the Bible. That spirit of God speaks through her mouth when
she is in one of those fits.43
While in a trance in Germany in 1874, God had told Heller that there would soon be a
‘dreadful holocaust that would devastate all Europe’ and, to avoid this calamity, she
must take her followers to Australia, ‘the only safe place in the world’. In Australia
they were to establish a religious commune, a utopia, with herself as leader. Heller
told her followers about Australia and what God had planned for their future.
Herrnhut, Page 12
There, God orders, shall I lead you. There, God prepares houses and land,
already waiting for you on our arrival. There, we will dwell for ten years under
our fig trees and vine, in abundance and peace, and prepare ourselves
totally for His kingdom. Then, once we are purified, I will lead you to the New
Jerusalem which the Lord has rebuilt in the meantime, and later we will
return to Germany, totally purified, as His one and only True Flock.44
Hill Plain commune failed dismally in Australia, with eight deaths from starvation and
scurvy within the first few months. When Krumnow invited them to join Herrnhut,
Heller saw this as the next step in God’s plan for her group to create a New
Jerusalem because, at Herrnhut, there were ‘houses and land, already waiting for
you on our arrival’ just as God had earlier prophesied. In Krumnow’s eyes, however,
they were just more recruits for Herrnhut.
The arrival of Heller and about 30 of her followers in 1876 doubled the population of
Herrnhut , and strained all resources. These two groups of communards were very
different types of people, and the two leaders were even more different. While
Krumnow’s ageing followers were competent farmers, Heller’s were younger, more
likely to have a trade, and more artistically inclined. While Krumnow saw himself as a
learned man, a rational and efficient manager, and used the title of Pastor, Heller
was a non-rational mystic who received direct communications from God, and
believed herself destined to be the mother of the new Christ.
The newly arrived Hill Plain communards altered the social and cultural life in the
previously flagging Herrnhut. ‘The music at … Herrnhut was very superior last
Sunday. Some of the [Hill Plain] newcomers having formed a vocal and instrumental
choir, which, without the aid of a harmonium or organ, sang sacred music true to
note, such as … was never heard in Western Victoria before. Some of the performers
have silver instruments.’45
Charismatic leaders, particularly those claiming direct communication with God, and
to be ‘True Believers’, are rarely able to brook challenges to their supreme position.
Two charismatic leaders in the one commune can be incendiary! Krumnow and
Heller both saw themselves as divinely inspired leaders, although in quite different
ways so, not surprisingly, they did not get along in the same commune although their
relationship had previously been amicable and supportive.
Relations between Krumnow’s and Heller’s followers also soured. Prior to their
arrival, there had been plenty of housing at Herrnhut but now they were overcrowded, underfed and facing financial ruin. The improved church music was much
appreciated but did not overcome all the other problems.
They ended up in court with Krumnow’s followers accusing Heller of being ‘a
dangerous lunatic’, and of her followers ‘the men lazy, and the women whores’. 46
Herrnhut, Page 13
One of Heller’s followers then claimed that Krumnow was a despot ‘whose cunning
and audacity has already ensnared many simple people’.47 There may well have
been something in all these accusations.
The provision of food placed impossible demands on Herrnhut’s resources. Because
of feuds between the two charismatic leaders, arguments and petty bickering
between their followers, and the relative poverty at Herrnhut when compared to the
prosperity around them, Heller and most of the ex-Hill Plain communards soon left
Herrnhut, in bitter acrimony.
Herrnhut had incurred further debts through this disastrous episode, and the
commune was now in a parlous financial state, as well as riddled with dissension. As
his health deteriorated through age and drink, Krumnow desperately tried to raise
additional capital and find new recruits, but to no avail. Herrnhut was down to about
ten adults, all were ageing and in declining health - and all were thoroughly
disillusioned with Krumnow.
Johann Friedrich Krumnow died on October 3, 1880, aged 69, and was buried next
to their stone church. He had led Herrnhut commune since its inception twenty-eight
years earlier. According to a descendant of these communards, when Krumnow was
buried there was so much antipathy toward him that his erstwhile followers ‘wanted
him buried face downwards so that he could not scratch his way out again’.48
The leadership of Herrnhut commune was taken on by Louisa Elmore who had
grown up on Herrnhut (as Louisa Röhr) and then eloped with her teacher, Fred
Elmore. Upon Krumnow’s death, they returned to Herrnhut. The commune was
burdened by debt. Herrnhut had ten adult members but, because all were either old
or otherwise incapable of hard farm work, they had to rely on hired labour.
Louisa and Fred Elmore tried to trade the commune out of debt, and did a good job
because, in 1882, Herrnhut’s lawyer optimistically stated that the commune ‘was now
recovering its losses and with a good season or two might be paying its way’. This
optimistic assessment, however, was not to eventuate. They soon realised that the
only way was to sell out and distribute the remaining assets between members. The
problem with this was that the land was still in the name of Johann Friedrich
Krumnow, and he had left no will. It took several years of court battles and
considerable legal expense to clear this land-title, while holding creditors at bay.
During that time, Herrnhut members followed communal principles as their debts
increased, members aged, and the farm declined.49
On October 7, 1889, Herrnhut was finally sold, but their debts and legal costs soaked
up all the funds, with nothing left for the ex-communards. On that day Herrnhut
commune, established back in 1852, formally ceased to exist as a collective social
Herrnhut, Page 14
and economic enterprise, and one of the strangest chapters in Australian social
history was closed.50
Almost a century later, a Victorian newspaper would refer to Herrnhut as ‘Australia’s
most colourful trial in communal living’ - a very accurate description.51
Today, one can walk through the ruins of Herrnhut’s stone houses and church, follow
the paths of the early drains and roads, and watch birds on the still-existing dam.
There is an eerie, lonely feel to the cemetery and the rest of the site where
Australia’s first utopian commune was created, thrived, then collapsed.
Herrnhut, Page 15
Endnotes
1
This paper is based on the book Herrnhut, Australia’s First Utopian Commune, by W. Metcalf
and B. Huf, Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, to be released in early 2002.
My appreciation is extended to Betty Huf and Melbourne University Press for permission to
reproduce some material from that book.
Herrnhut, Australia’s First Utopian Commune has far more details about this commune, plus
many photographs.
2
R. Eanes, ‘Monastics to Moravians’ in Communities # 96, 1996, pp. 46-7; and M. Cigler, The
Czechs in Australia, Melbourne: A.E. Press, 1983, p. 13.
The best overview of Moravian history is G. Gollin, Moravians in Two worlds: A study of
Changing Communities, New York: Columbia University Press, 1967; and B. Smaby, The
Transformation of Moravian Bethlehem: From Communal Mission to Family Economy,
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988.
3
A. Brauer, Under the Southern Cross: History of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Australia,
Adelaide: Lutheran Publishing House, 1956, pp. 3-5; and G. Nielsen, In Search of a Home,
College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1989, p. 9.
4
T. Darragh & R. Wuchatsch, From Hamburg to Hobson’s Bay, Melbourne: Darragh &
Wuchatsch, 1999, p. 28; A. Brauer, op. cit., p. 8; Schubert, op. cit., pp. 50-74; and C. Meyer A
History of Germans in Australia 1839-1945 , Melbourne: Monash University Printing Services,
1990, p. 7.
5
Quoted in Meyer, op. cit., p. 5.
6
E. Huf, ‘Krumnow, Johann Friedrich’ in G. Forth (ed) Biographical Dictionary of the Western
District of Victoria, Melbourne: Hyland House Publishing, 1998, pp. 81-2; J. James, The Argus,
April 18, (1885), p. 4; L. Huf, ‘The Moravian Settlement at Herrnhut’, paper presented to the
Hamilton and Western District Historical Society, May 30, 1958, p. 3; and J. Graetz, By Ark to
Ararat, Adelaide: Friends of the Lutheran Archives, 1998, pp. 10-11.
7
A. Lodewyckx, Die Deutschen in Australien, Stuttgart: Verlagsaktien-gesellschaft, 1932, p. 144,
as translated by Isabell Blömer.
8
ibid, p. 14.
9
T. Hebart, Die Vereinigte Evangelisch Lutherische Kirke in Australien, North Adelaide: Lutheran
Book Depot, 1938, pp. 50-1, as translated by Isabell Blömer; W. Iwan, Um Des Glaubens Willen
Nach Australien, Breslau: Verlag des Lutherischen Büchervereins, 1931, p. 60, as translated by
Isabell Blömer; Brauer, op. cit., p. 103; and Lodewyckx, op. cit., p. 137.
10
Email from Dr Paul Peuker of Evangelische Brüder-Unität (Moravian) Archives, Germany, to
author, dated July 15, 1999.
11
F. Stockwell, Encyclopedia of American Communes 1663-1963 Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Co,
1998; and G. Darley, Villages of Vision, London: Architectural Press, 1977, pp. 78-80.
12
D. Hardy, Alternative Communities in Nineteenth Century England, London: Longman, 1979, p.
127.
13
Darragh & Wuchatsch, op. cit. pp. 138-43.
14
Hebart, op. cit., p 52; and Lodewyckx, op. cit., p. 137.
15
James, op. cit., p. 4.
16
Victorian Law Reports, v.7, 1881, pp. 158-9; and PROV VPRS 259/P1, Unit 213, # 1913.
17
W. Metcalf and T. Darragh, The Krumnow Manifesto, Brisbane: Griffith University, 2001.
18
James, op. cit., p. 4.
19
L. Huf, op. cit., p. 6; and interview with Miss Christina Albert by Mr Len Huf, 1956, held by the
Hamilton History Centre.
Herrnhut, Page 16
20
Belfast Gazette, as quoted in Argus, 29 April 1857, p. 5.
21
GH referred to Gemeinde Herrnhut, or Herrnhut Commune, and the numbers 1854 denoted the
year of its erection.
22
This communion service still exists and has been located as part of the author’s research.
23
Letter from Theophilus Elmore to James MacDonald, Director of Victorian National Gallery, 24
November 1936, in possession of author.
24
L. Huf, op. cit., p. 5; and Interview on 26 June 1956, with Mr Albert, aged 94, held by Hamilton
History Centre.
25
Letter from Pastor Schürmann to Pastor Meyer, 15 November 1855, held by the Lutheran
Archives, Adelaide.
26
Belfast Gazette, as quoted in Argus, 29 April 1857, p. 5.
27
PROV VPRS 259/P1, Unit 213, # 1913.
28
PROV VPRS 259/P1, Unit 213, # 1913 (Affidavit by Theyre Weigall, 7 January 1881).
29
Lodewyckx, op. cit., p. 141.
30
Letter from Louisa Elmore (nee Röhr) to Lydia Elmore, 21 April 1912, in possession of author.
31
Letter from Theophilus Elmore to James MacDonald, 24 November 1936; Letter from Lionel
Elmore to Charles Meyer, 8 September 1978; and notes of interview of Lionel Elmore by
Charles Meyer, 6 June 1978; all in possession of author.
32
Hamilton Spectator, 16 November 1880, p. 4.
33
James, op. cit., p. 4.
34
PROV VPRS 24/P Box 141, No. 379, inquest held 14 May 1864; and Hamilton Spectator 20
May 1864, p. 2.
35
Hamilton Spectator, 16 March 1867, p. 2; and Mount Rouse Shire District Road Board Minutes,
6 March 1867, p. 255.
36
Anon., Tabor Centenary 1853-1953, Hamilton: Hamilton Spectator Publishing, 1953; Anon.,
Shire of Mount Rouse: Centenary Celebrated, Penshurst: Mt Rouse Shire, 1966, p. 68; and E.
Huf, op. cit., pp. 81-2.
37
Letter from Fred Elmore to Louisa Elmore, 3 November 1872, in possession of author.
38
James, op. cit., p. 4.
39
Hamilton Spectator, 5 June 1958, p. 2.
40
Anon., Tarrington Centenary, 1853-1953, Tarrington: St Michael’s Church, 1953, p. 52; and The
Age, 27 November 1965, p. 22.
41
James, op. cit., p. 4.
42
C. Meyer, ‘Two Communes in Rural Victoria’, The Victorian Historical Journal, Vol 49, 1978, p.
210; and Lodewyckx, op. cit., p. 142.
43
Town and Country Journal, 11 December 1875, p. 947.
44
James, op. cit., p. 4; and Die Australische Zeitung, 7 December 1875, p. 5, as translated by
Isabell Blömer.
45
Hamilton Spectator, 1 April 1876, p. 2.
46
Der Australischer Christenbote, August 1876, p. 117, as translated by Isabell Blömer; and
Hamilton Spectator, 19 August 1876, p. 6.
Herrnhut, Page 17
47
Der Lutherische Kirchenbote, November 1876, p. 89, as translated by Isabell Blömer.
48
Theophilus Elmore, as quoted in C. Meyer, ‘Two Communes in Rural Victoria’, p. 209.
49
PROV VPRS 259/1, Unit 213, # 1913.
50
PROV VPRS 460/P, Unit 2444, File 24620.
51
Country Bulletin, Vol. 1, No. 6, 22 November 1976.
1.4 New roles for community
Urbanization: The Catalyst Speeding Changes in the Kibbutz Family
and in the Status of Kibbutz Women
Dr. Gila Adar
The Institute for Research and Study of the Kibbutz and the Cooperative Idea,
The University of Haifa, Israel,
Introduction
In this paper I argue that the urbanization perspective is a good way to investigate the
changes the kibbutz is undergoing. This perspective is rarely used in analysis of the change
process in the kibbutz, which has experienced a transition from an agricultural society to an
industrial and post – industrial society. I suggest that we look at the changes as examples of
unavoidable self-correction that removed obstacles preventing further developments.
Since the late 60s the kibbutz ceaselessly transformed its structure. Urbanization is the
appropriate concept to describe this process, which developed out of the educational and
industrial revolution the kibbutz underwent in those years. Although agriculture was still
advancing successfully, industry, services, crafts and administration began to offer a greater
variety of jobs.
Urbanization
“Urbanization” is a process described by three main spheres of community transformation.
1. In the economic sphere there is a reduction in the share of income from agriculture, while at
the same time the variety of occupations providing other sources of income, keeps growing.
More people find their living out side the community, increasing the number of commuters.
The resulting differences in ownership of property, and in social, cultural and human capital
turn the community into a more stratified one.
2. In interpersonal relations there is a transition from a community-centered life to a home
centered life. Instead of face-to-face interaction and friendship there is a shift to formal
relations and alienation. Mutual commitment and help gives way to more egocentric behavior.
(A transition from “gemeinshaft to gesellschaft”.)
3. As cultivated fields become real estate and new buildings are constructed densely, style of
life changes. More cars and roads fill the landscape and the consumption of urban goods and
social-cultural events increases.
Removing the Obstacles that Prevent Continuation of the Urbanization Process in the
Kibbutz
Main changes in the economic sphere
During the 70s and 80s the productive branches changed from being agriculturally to
industrially centered. From the 90s on, the amount of income produced by economic
enterprises of the kibbutz declined, as a growing share of income derived from the salaries of
members working outside the kibbutz. Small businesses on the kibbutz are emerging in
growing numbers. Orchan, Hailbrun and Getz (1999) listed 836 small businesses and new
initiatives in arts & crafts, alternative health care and medicine, tourist attractions etc.
Conceptual changes brought about formal collective decisions. As a result of the economic
crisis, 71% of the kibbutzim (Getz 1997 ) decided to encourage members to find jobs outside
the kibbutz and deposit their salaries in the empty treasury.
Past restrictions on employment of non-kibbutz members were removed. Formerly A kibbutz
paid a fine to the Kibbutz Artzi Federation for every non-kibbutz worker employed. In some
kibbutzim the economic coordinator had to receive permission from the General Assembly to
take on a new employee, a requirement no longer in existence.
Most of the workers with routine jobs and “on the floor” jobs in kibbutz factories are nonkibbutz employees who comprise 62% of the work force in kibbutz industry (Favin, 2001),
or are elderly kibbutz members. Younger kibbutz members working in kibbutz industry, fill
administrative and managerial posts.
Table 1. Men and Women in their Branch of Work (prc.)
1978
Women Men
1.0
31.0
Agriculture
Industry, crafts
and tourism
8.0
Public services 37.0
Education
39.0
Administration 8.0
Other
7.0
Total
100.0
30.0
10.0
5.0
8.0
16.0
100.0
1986
Women Men
3.0
22.0
6.0
30.0
38.0
12.0
11.0
100.0
38.0
6.0
4.0
14.0
16.0
100.0
1994
Women Men
5.0
23.0
21.0
26.0
26.0
12.0
10.0
100.0
34.0
16.0
5.0
15.5
6.5
100.0
2001
Women Men
2.0
4.0
20.0
27.0
28.0
13.0
10.0
100.0
42.0
11.0
5.0
19.0
9.0
100.0
Source: Adar 1998, and Palgi & Sharir 2001
Table 1 outlines the division of labor between the genders over a long period. It also casts light
upon the change in the occupational structure for both genders: For men the decrease of
agriculture in favor of industrialization, small businesses and administrative jobs. Women
entered those branches in smaller numbers as they moved out of education and semi-home
services.
With the obstacles to commuting removed, middle-aged people with higher education and
occupational training, work outside the kibbutz in growing numbers, reaching as high as 33%40% (Palgi & Sharir 2001 ).
The pressure upon kibbutz women to work as a “Metapelet” (children’s nurse), gave way to
fuller occupational freedom, thereby legitimizing employment outside the kibbutz. This
enlarged their occupational repertoire. The percentage of males and females employed outside
the kibbutz is quite similar; although the type of branch they work in jobs they perform are
different. In small kibbutz enterprises women make up the majority of staff, increasing their
earning capacity as they enter into the paid-work sector in growing numbers.
The decision of 18% of the kibbutzim (Getz 2001 ) to adopt personal differential wages has
had a powerful impact on all spheres of life giving a major thrust to the urbanization process.
Stratification of the communal community
Kibbutz researchers raised the issue of stratification as soon as the industrialization process
began (Zamir, 1973 ).
Adar, (1982) pointed out that kibbutz members perceive a kibbutz occupational prestige
scale, that coincides with unequal rewards at kibbutz jobs. Ben-Rafael (1984) argued that
although kibbutz stratification does not meet Marxian definition of classes, the complexity of
kibbutz society proves it to be a stratified society. Rosolio (2001 ) describes the new kibbutz
as having at least four different strata: kibbutz members, hired employees, temporary
residents and permanent residents who rent apartments on the kibbutz.
The deepening of stratification is no longer in question, its indicators are:
1. Differential salaries
2. Individual consumption replacing the communal treasury.
3. Plans for distributing kibbutz collective estates between its members. Homes and
apartments would become private.
4.Building of new neighborhoods whose dwellings will be sold to individuals from outside the
kibbutz.
This route to demographic increase, is aimed at bringing about an economic and social
renaissance and since 1992 was taken by many moshavim. Hoping to renew their fading
communities, kibbutzim decided to follow in the path of moshavim.
Kibbutzim willing to give up their prior character as a small rural and communal community
they could then grow into big neighborhoods serving as dormitories for their inhabitants. The
new neighborhoods will accelerate the urbanization process and demographically and
geographically change the kibbutz from a village settlement into a suburb.
Changes in life style
Most kibbutzniks begin their work-day later in the morning – not with sunrise, as was
common in the past. People now dress well for work, and fewer wear blue-collar outfits.
Meals are considered a private activity, as is cultural consumption. Entertainment patterns are
conditioned by age: popular music appeals to the younger generation’s subculture, the older
generation preferring folk songs and lectures. Clubs and Discos exist on most kibbutzim, but
concerts, cinema, theater and weddings are held outside the kibbutz. Jewish festivals and
holiday celebrations are fading out. Large homes and private parking spaces for cars owned by
kibbutz members have become status symbols .
The ideological/conceptual shift
Self-fulfillment, Individualism, and economic neo-liberal attitudes replaced the former values
of equality and cooperation. Ravid (1999, p143 ) states: “In the sphere of consumption, the
community and its members are no longer responsible for the individual any more. More over,
these normative changes express the unwillingness of the individual to give up his needs for
the special needs of some-one else.”
Gluck at al (1998) discovered that the anti-collective and pro-individual values widely held by
Israel’s urban population was paralleled among kibbutzniks leaving their communities. In a
sample of the reasons given for departing I quote: “I don’t want others to interfere in my
private life” (60%); “I don’t want to be dependent on other people (61%). Other reasons
advanced reflected the race after economic rewards and occupational advancement. 47% of the
kibbutz born persons who answered the questionnaire claimed that although every thing was
fine they just did not want to live in the kibbutz.
Table 2. Reasons for Leaving the Kibbutz
Percentage of answers “Important and very important reason for me to leave the kibbutz”
Interference of others in my private problems
The disparity between my contribution and my personal satisfaction was too big
The Kibbutz way of life is no longer relevant to our times
There was no possibility to develop innovations and incentives
The occupational standards that I strove to achieve were absent
(44% of the women gave this answer)
To prove that I can cope with life out side the kibbutz
I felt that my capabilities could not be realized
My chances to work in a job that I wanted were limited
60.0
45.9
38.3
37.3
36.0
32.4
32.2
27.2
Source: Gluck: 1998.
The Family unit
Structural changes in the kibbutz family occurred through the 90s.
High marriage and birth rates characterized agrarian kibbutz society, as did low age of marriage
and low divorce rate. Throughout the 80’s members demonstrated positive attitudes toward
familism, a sense of pride in their enlarging community and confidence that the promise of
social security for the elderly would be kept.
The frequency of children per family was 4. The mean number was 3.6 in the year 1972
(Orchan, 1990). In a society where the extended family is the main element in its structure,
high birth rates guarantee its future. Before the present crisis the number of extended families
was growing and the familistic discourse was central. This strong sense of commitment to the
family was shared primarily among women, who preferred it above other options for selfactualization. Familism had an oppressive impact on women’s lives, playing an important role
in hindering occupational careers for women.
The main building stones of kibbutz society were the extended families of three or four
generations: Parents and their children and their children’s children, married siblings and
relatives by marriage living in the same community.
The “Hamula” (the extended family) was studied as a source of power for its members (AmAd 1980 ) and as the source of status for kibbutz women in Ben-Rafael & Weiteman (1984 ).
The picture is very different now. Kibbutz families are shrinking. As happens with
urbanization, one of the main consequences is the departure of the young and unmarried.
They emigrate from home and, sometimes from the country. (The urge for new experience, the
ease of traveling,
etc. makes it popular, while higher education made it possible to live out side the kibbutz).
Because of the kibbutz economic crisis, families aged 35-50 with children left the kibbutz.
61% moved to cities and 60% live at least 50 km away from their kibbutz of origin. Examining
the structure of kibbutz society today one might imagine that it is built mostly around small
families. The majority of families consist of one couple and dependent singles who are their
siblings or old parents of the nuclear family.
The data show that the proportion between married people and singles was changed in favor
of the singles, and that the number of multi-generations families is declining. (Adar, 2001).
Table 3. Couples and Singles, 1983 and 2000 in comparison
Couples
(2X)
Singles
Big families (2 or more couples) as prc. of all
families
1983
2000
2213
1870
74%
62%
1591
2308
26%
38%
17%
15%
Consequences for Women
The economic crisis pushed many kibbutz members into finding jobs out side the kibbutz.
Professional women were the first to get into the labor market. Nurses, teachers and highly
professional secretaries were integrated into the regional labor market more easily compared to
other occupations (Adar 1997).
It can be claimed that women may at least choose diverse occupations despite the division of
the labor market according to gender . Once the objection to women working out side the
kibbutz was removed and more women earned good salaries, their proportion in the regional
labour market became equal to men’s.
Table 4. Sector of Job by Gender (Prc.)
Sector
Women
Men
In my kibbutz
63.0
67.0
Kibbutzim, Partnerships & the Federations
16.0
10.0
Public Sector
9.0
3.0
Privet Sector
10.0
4.0
Other
10.0
8.0
Total
100.0
100.0
Source: Palgi & Sharir _2001
Table 4 differentiates between members working inside the kibbutz (The answer: “In my
kibbutz” was given by 63% of the women) and out side it (37%).
If in the past women were pushed into child nursing, kitchen work, laundry etc, these days
they have more legitimization to choose the kind of occupation they would like. Now women
working out side the kibbutz face new burdens like the need for a car to commute, or long
hours of children’s day care.
Privatization is restricting the supply of the services given to the family and individual by the
community. Therefore the “second job”, (women’s family duties) consumes much more time
(Palgi, 1997). Putting family first, has an impact on earning ability and on chances for
promotion. Hence, kibbutz discourse is less familistic and more career oriented.
In the past the kibbutz treated single mothers and single women and every child as equals.
Now their situation is less secure. Although privatization has an impact on the social security
of all segments of the kibbutz, the urbanization phenomena, loosens the security belt for the
weaker part of society. Urbanization reduces face-to-face interactions and the support
networks that had been institutionalized in the past. The high divorce rate, low re-marriage
rate and inferior status on the labor market, result in insecurity.
In the future the poverty of single women and elderly women on the kibbutz will become
comparable to outside society.
Conclusions
In examining the structural changes in the kibbutzim through the urbanization prism, they
emerge as unavoidable, and the whole process, seems today, as nonreversible.
To some extent the changes fit the self-perception of kibbutz members as being a modern
community within Israeli society.
The process is still in motion. Through the absorption of new residents who are not kibbutz
members, the stopgap measures that delayed the change process, will disappear.
For those trying to preserve the main elements of the kibbutz partnership and for young
people living in the new communal modes of Israel, confrontation with basic dilemmas is
inevitable. Here are two open questions: Is there a way to combine personal freedom with
collective missions? Can a multigenerational, individualistic society, retain its solidarity?
Bibliography: Hebrew
Orchan, E. Heilbroon, S. and Getz, S. Small Businesses and Economic Initiatives in the
Kibbutzim.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa. 1999.
Getz, S. A Yearly Survey of Changes in the Kibbutzim.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa 1997, _2001.
Palgi, M. and Sharir, S. Yearly Kibbutz Public Opinion Survey.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa. No 170, 2001.
Pavin, A. The Kibbutz Movement: Information and Figures. Yad Tabenkin Efal 2001.
Zamir, D. “Industrialization on the Kibbutz”. In: Does Stratification Exist in the Kibbutz?
Educational Department of the Kibbutz Artzi Federation, 1973.
Ravid, S. Norms and Values – Continuity or Revolution.
Hakibbutz Hameuhad and Yad Tabenkin, 1999.
Gluck. Y. and Goldemberg, H. “Kibbutz Leavers and their Reasons for Departure.” In:
Researching, Practical and Political Aspects of Current Processes in the Kibbutz.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa. No 155, 1998.
Orchan, E. Changes in Fertility Rates in the Kibbutz Movement 1948-1988.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa No 97, 1990.
Palgi, M. “Women in the Changing Kibbutz Economy” in: Women in the Changing Kibbutz.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa. No 147, 1997.
Adar, G. “Women in the kibbutz: change and continuity.” In: Women in the Changing
Kibbutz.
The Kibbutz Research Institute, University of Haifa. No 147, 1997.
Bibliography: English
Adar, G. “Women in the Changing Kibbutz” in: Leviatan, U. Huge, O. and Quarter, J. (eds.)
Crisis in the Israeli Kibbutz.
Praeger, Westport, Connecticut, London. 1998
Adar, G. “Occupational Prestige in the Kibbutz”.
Interchange, 1982, v13, 45-54.
Ben Rafael, E. and Weitman, S. “The Reconstruction of the Family in the Kibbutz”.
European Journal of Sociology, 1984, 21, 1-27 .
Rosolio, D. “The transformation of the kibbutz from a classless society to a class society”.
To be Published in: 6th International ICSA Conference Proceedings, Amsterdam University,
2001
BETWEEN OPPORTUNITY AND DUTY:
A NEW ROLE FOR ALTERNATIVE IDEOLOGIES
René Hirsch
Abstract
The 20th century has been, in Western industrialized countries, the battleground for the
struggle between three ideologies: democracy, fascism, and communism. By the end of the
century, after having defeated the fascist forces, and following the collapse of Soviet
communism, the United States, assertive leader of the democratic camp, emerged as
uncontested victor, and universal symbol for democracy. Exploiting capitalism under its most
liberal form as a weapon, it has combined its political clout, its military superiority, its
technological leadership, its dynamic enterprises, and its benchmark currency, to extend its
influence and values practically the world over. Its overwhelming success on all fronts has led
many to proclaim the birth of a ‘new era’, in which continuous improvements in technology
and productivity, and global financial efficiency, point towards an ever prosperous world.
However, the benefits of this new global order have not spread throughout society, but have
instead been awarded to a very exclusive few. With its obsession for competition, and its
winner-takes-it-all mentality, the present free market model has left an increasing number of
people behind. Their ranks have been fed by a middle class that has constantly lost ground
throughout the last two decades, destabilized by economic inequality, mounting job
uncertainty, and social insecurity.
Aggravating the social malaise, market forces have gradually stripped state institutions of their
economic powers, narrowing thus the possibility to distinguish one political platform from
the other. As a consequence, weakened governments have gradually lost credibility in the eyes
of their electorate, which has translated by record low turnouts at recent national or
supranational elections. Looking for solutions outside mainstream political parties, a widening
audience has turned to more radical ideals: fascism has been the major beneficiary of this
trend.
Feeding on widespread disillusionment, uninspired political leadership, and growing chaotic
economic conditions, the fascist ideology has re-emerged to become, in many industrialized
countries, the favourite alternative. Its development proceeds on two levels: as a
democratically-dressed political manifestation, and as a draw for the younger generation, using
violence as its main expressive support.
By stimulating hatred and segregation as a way-out to the problems of social exclusion and
insecurity, fascism poses, as it has done before, a major threat to the democratic standards
that industrialized nations have slowly and painfully developed. With communism totally
discredited, the pendulum movement towards the right of the political spectrum is far from
being completed. The vulnerability of our democratic institutions gives fascism further
opportunities to conquer a predominant position in our societies in the coming decades.
Although we cannot pretend to stop it, to slow its advance might prevent us from being
carried too far off-balance.
Throughout the 20th century, kibbutzim have developed around an ideological alternative
advancing equality as its fundamental principle. This non-doctrinaire movement has clearly
established that equalitarian values can be successfully integrated in a democratic environment.
As a system of communities, each built on its own particular configuration, it has created a
dynamic society with a pluralistic structure.
In addition, it has provided new grounds for the development of the individual, not only by
untying work from salary, but by offering also effective solutions to the alienating process
reigning in many aspect of our societies.
Such equalitarian values could provide democracy with a much-needed ideological impetus.
The multiple cracks that have appeared in the social and moral fabric of our societies show
how indispensable is a viable alternative that would reinforce norms and values such as
freedom, equality, and justice, and keep in this way the foundations of democracy alive.
INTRODUCTION - The New Era
"Few things can happen more disastrous
than the decay and death of a regulative system no longer fit,
before another and fitter regulative system has grown up to replace it."
[Herbert Spencer; in Gross 1985, 8]
Three ideologies have dominated the political, economical and social landscape of most
Western industrialized nations in the 20th century:
• Democracy, promoting political and legal rights, with the respect of private property as
fundamental rule;
• Fascism, calling for a strong national identity under authoritarian rule, with the respect of
private property as fundamental rule as well;
• Communism, a dogma abolishing private property to defend the social and economical rights
of each individual.
All three have been very active until the Second World War which saw the democratic camp
and the communist one, brought together under the same flag, fight and defeat the fascist
forces that had broken the fundamental rule. The scale of the conflict and the atrocities that
were committed by the fascist camp left their ideology completely discredited for several
decades afterwards.
The world in black-and-white
After the defeat of the fascist coalition, the two remaining camps, represented by the Soviet
Union and the United States, which emerged from WW2 as the major victor, resumed their
ideological struggle, centred on their conflicting point of view towards private property. This
Cold War created a gigantic propaganda machine that produced a simplistic black-and-white
vision of the world, in which each side claimed that the other was pure evil, and had for sole
purpose to dominate the world. With each camp confined to areas clearly delimited by
geographical boundaries, the ideological divide thus created incited many intellectuals to fight
for the opposite side, especially in Western and Central Europe, main theatres of the Cold
War.
However, by the end of the 1960s and through the 1970s, a series of events permanently
stained this idealistic black-and-white image of the world. On the one side, some of them, like
the Soviet military intervention in Prague, the publication of Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag
Archipelago, the criticism of human rights activist and Nobel Prize winner Andrei Sakharov,
and the genocide in Cambodia succeeded in derailing Soviet communism propaganda machine.
Furthermore, because of the prolonged decline in economic growth , standards of living in the
Soviet Union deteriorated, and daily life was grim. The system was cracking from all sides. In
the West, the appeal for its cause rapidly dwindled, leaving many intellectuals and politicians
alike feeling betrayed.
On the other side, the hegemony of the United States suffered severe setbacks: economically,
with the breakdown of the Bretton Woods monetary system, and the recession brought by
the oil shocks of the 1970s; militarily and politically, with the Vietnam War fiasco, the
Watergate scandal, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and the Iranian Revolution . These
events disrupted the balance of power in the world, and led to a growing malaise in the
American society.
By the end of the 1970s, the two ‘ideological’ dreams were but a distant memory.
Communism, as implemented in the Soviet Union, had not created the worker’s paradise it
had promised, and the American dream had fallen apart. In the space of a decade, the blackand-white coating of the Cold War had disappeared: it had concealed a very complex and
insecure world.
The birth of the new order
Corresponding to the weakening of communism, a new liberal trend emerged in the democratic
camp when Margaret Thatcher in Great Britain and Ronald Reagan in the US came to power.
It developed primarily as a reaction to the economic recessions and social unrest that plagued
the 1970s.
Under the motto of economic modernization, Thatcher’s government successfully reduced the
power of trade unions, and accelerated the privatisation process . These policies allowed the
deregulation of labour markets, essential constituent to the development of a free market
economy.
In the US, Reagan’s policies will have a major impact on the prevalence of capital against
income. First, through a sharp reduction in taxes applicable to non-salary income, the top rich
decile began paying a lower rate of taxes than the working middle class. Second, to finance
projects like the SDI , the Reagan administration reduced social security budget, and had still
to borrow massively. These policies initiated "a huge transfer of wealth" [Rohatyn 1995],
favouring people in possession of capital to the detriment of the wage-earning class.
The new liberal trend was soon endorsed by several governments in Continental Europe, most
of them, ironically, of socialist credo. These will give birth to the new centre-left political
movement that still dominates Europe’s political landscape.
In Spain, the PSOE (Spain’s Socialist Party) accessed power in 1982. Under the direction of
its secretary-general Felipe Gonzáles, the party had already in 1979 abandoned its socialist
economic principles. As Prime Minister, Felipe Gonzáles implemented free market policies to
modernize the Spanish economy.
In France, socialist President François Mitterand elected in 1981, abruptly changed direction
in 1983, switching from pure socialist economic policies to free-market liberalism. This shift
was forced upon the French government by financial markets. The policies of nationalisation,
of raising the minimum wage, of increasing social benefits, and of implementing a special tax
on large fortunes, brought about declining exports, raising unemployment, and, with capital
fleeing the country, a decline in the value of the French Franc. With punitively high interests
rates imposed by international financial markets, it became increasingly difficult for the
government to finance its policies. It finally gave in, and adopted the new general trend of
‘economic modernization’ by cutting spending, and implementing a privatisation program.
Democracy and capitalism go global …
For capitalist democracy, the years 1989 to 1991 will prove to be decisive, initiating the reestablishment of America’s hegemony.
First, politically. With the collapse of the Soviet system, the Cold War finally came to an end,
symbolically marked by the dismantlement of the Berlin Wall. The United States, with its
unrelenting anti-communist convictions, emerged as the undisputed winner of that forty-five
yearlong conflict.
Second, militarily. Under the leadership of the US, the allied forces won the Gulf War waged
against Iraq. Not only did it confirm the United States as the world’s first military power, but
it also put a definitive end to the trauma left by the Vietnam War in American psyche.
Finally, on the economic front, the crash of the Japanese stock market will prove to be of
great psychological importance as well. Throughout the 1980s, Japanese enterprises have had
the economic upper hand, with their innovative new products and their efficient way to
produce them. American enterprises, beaten on what they considered a field of their own,
were devastated by pessimism. Moreover, Japan had become a financial powerhouse, and the
major lender of the planet, while the US government turned out to be its biggest borrower.
However, as a consequence to the economic boom, financial excesses had build up in the
Japanese economy. These, eventually, led to the collapse of the Nikkei. Cheap credit and
liquidity evaporated almost instantaneously, sending deflationary shockwaves all over the
world, and this once almighty economy contracted in a long and painful recession that has not
yet run its full course.
The breakdown of the Japanese economy, combined to the information technology (IT)
revolution, will allow American enterprises, rejuvenated by years spent in reorganizing and reinventing themselves, to regain their technological and economical dominance.
The last major obstacle holding back the lift-off of America’s economic supremacy will
disappear when President Bill Clinton, democrat elected in 1992, will turn away from deficit
spending, and bring the federal budget back into balance. Added to the deflationary pressures,
it will pave the way for US Federal Reserve policies of low interest rates and cheap money.
The combination of all these events will prove to be explosive. Politically, militarily and
economically, the hegemony of the United States will be absolute. Supported by its winnertakes-it-all mentality, it will restore, once again, the conviction in the universality of the
‘American dream’. The teamwork by US enterprises and government on one side, and by
transnational organization like the IMF, the World Bank and the WTO on the other, all under
absolute US domination, will converge to spread around the globe the American definition of
democratic capitalism, which relies on the principle that social harmony will be reached if
every individual is free to pursue his or her self-interest, be it economical or political, within a
framework regulated by market forces.
… and totalitarian
The fall of the Berlin Wall left no major frontier capable to stop multinational enterprises
spreading throughout the world. Among them, a handful of new companies, mostly American,
took the technological lead by riding the IT revolution, and acquired an almost exclusive
domination of all its developments worldwide. The frantic pace of technological innovations
combined to a much heralded productivity growth will give birth to the ‘New Economy’.
With information available almost instantaneously everywhere, new communication
technologies will allow capital to move faster, almost as fast as information itself. Markets
will therefore be able to reward or penalize governments’ and companies’ policies very
rapidly, by either flooding them with money or by withdrawing billions of dollars at a
glimpse.
In the first half of the 1990s, huge amounts of money flowed into developing countries,
creating an extraordinary financial boom that spread from Korea to Chile. However, in 1996, a
panic reaction to Thailand’s devaluation of its currency led to the worst financial crisis since
the Great Depression. It spread throughout Asia, bringing most Asian ‘Tigers’ to their knees,
and ultimately all over third world economies.
With the once very successful Confucian way of capitalism now in a full-blown depression,
the dominance of Anglo-Saxon capitalism was so absolute that it had totalitarian connotations
attached to it: it was to use its supremacy to impose free-market policies that chiefly
benefited its own companies to countries that were unable to protect themselves against the
hectic movement of capital and that required its help.
As evidence of the exaltation created by the belief in the ‘new economy’ mantra, the last years
of the century will witness an unprecedented rise in the valuation of some US stock indices,
which will spread to several European bourses as well.
As for democracy, the global trend was overwhelming as well: between 1974 and 1999, 113
countries that were governed under authoritarian rule adopted a multiparty system [Gresh
2000]: "The proportion of blatantly authoritarian ("not free") states declined to a historic low
of … just over 20 percent in 1992. By contrast, in 1972 almost half the independent states in
the world were rated ‘not free’." [Diamond 1996]
Using Schumpeter’s minimalist definition of electoral democracy , or French Foreign Minister
Hubert Vedrine’s cynical "instant democracy" [Gresh 2000], governments and transnational
institutions further promoted democracy, "America’s trademark product" [Cohen 2000], by
linking it as underpinning value to their free market policies. The leaders of 34 nations, who
gathered in April 2001 for the Summit of the Americas in Quebec, "vowed to uphold
democratic principles or risk losing economic and political support". Furthermore, at the same
gathering, "the World Bank and the Inter-American Development Bank committed more than
$20 billion to strengthen democratic foundations in the Americas and prepare for free trade."
[De Palma 2001]
The new era
At the turn of the century, the United States will be considered as the spearhead and universal
symbol of democracy and of capitalism, under its most liberal form, the free market.
Establishing its hegemony with a vengeance after the collapse of Soviet communism, it will
combine its political clout, its military superiority, its technological leadership, its dynamic
enterprises, and its benchmark currency, to dominate the world, which was the argument of
the Cold War in the first place.
Its overwhelming success on all fronts will lead many to lose touch with reality, and proclaim
the birth of a ‘new era’, in which continuous improvements in technology and productivity,
global financial efficiency, and inflation once and for all under control, point towards an ever
prosperous world.
PART ONE - Social Apartheid
"Capitalism, while economically stable, and even gaining in stability, creates, by rationalizing
the human mind, a mentality and a style of life incompatible with its own fundamental
conditions, motives and social institutions."
[Schumpeter 1928, 368]
The economic modernization initiated two decades ago has become universal and unavoidable.
However, in this new global order, which represents "a veritable faith in man's secular
salvation through a self-regulating market" [Polanyi 1957, 135], the benefits of increased
productivity and technological innovation have not spread throughout society, but have been
awarded to a very exclusive few. This ‘slash-and-burn’ form of capitalism has, at the same
time, reversed a main feature of the post-war period, the expansion of the middle class. [Gray
1998, 191]
Furthermore, the constant application of economic standards as major reference has gradually
weakened the norms and values on which social relations have been built: "instead of [the]
economy being embedded in social relations, social relations are embedded in the economic
system." This has had "overwhelming consequences to the whole organization of society".
[Polanyi 1957]
Labour, capital …
Labour flexibility has been of paramount importance to achieve continuous growth in
productivity. Deregulated markets need supple labour conditions in order to function
smoothly, and have therefore systematically promoted the commoditisation of labour, which
means to let market forces define labour’s worth.
To push labour deregulation, a basic set of economic ‘reforms’ was asked from governments:
first of all, to scrap welfare support to the poor and the unemployed so that more people are
available on the job market. Second, to let supply and demand determine wages, in order to
obtain the required magic formula: more workers on the market, and consequently lower
wages.
At the same time, such labour policies would help governments balance their budgets, attract
capital, and lower their unemployment rates, by making their country more appealing to
national and multinational corporations.
To proceed with these labour reforms, trade unions had to be weakened and even disposed of,
so that workers would loose their bargaining power, and their contracts be individualized.
This strategy is illustrated by the drop in trade union membership in most industrialized
nations, and the parallel surge in contingent work – which includes temporary and part-time
work, contract-work, and non-standard work. In France, the unionised portion of the
workforce has dropped from 35 percent in the late 1950s to less than 9 percent in 1998.
Although less dramatic in Germany, the union share of employment has declined from 35
percent in 1985 to 26 percent today. In the US, the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) reported
"that just 13.5 percent of the workforce belonged to unions, the smallest percentage in six
decades and down from a peak of 35 percent in 1953." [Greenhouse 2001a; see also
Greenhouse 2001b and White 2001] As William Pfaff explains: "When it became not only
technologically possible but economically advantageous to manufacture goods for richcountries consumers in poor and unregulated Asian, Latin American or African labour
markets, labour in advanced countries lost its bargaining power." [Pfaff 1996]
On the other hand, in Euroland, "flexible jobs (part-time plus temporary staffing) has
increased by fully 50 percent over the past decade to reach about 30 percent of total
employment in 2000" [Roach 2000], while in the US, 28.7 percent of American workers
worked in non-standard jobs in 1997 [BLS 1997]. In Italy, flexible jobs contributed 70 percent
of the positions created over the past three years. [Guzzo 2001] In Spain, 31.6 percent of the
working population are employed under these types of contracts. [Short 2001] In 1998 in
Germany, 31.7 percent of the workforce had contingent jobs while only 58.3 percent had a
full-time, secure contract. [Henning 2001]
The constant features of all non-standard jobs are insecurity and low wages: "temporary
workers offer companies significant flexibility. Many still do not get benefits. They are easier
to lay off than are full-time employees. And many … are moonlighting -- they have more than
one job, so that if they lose one job, they are still employed." [Berner 2001]
… and inequalities
The liberalisation of trade and tariffs of the last decades has further accelerated the process of
labour commoditisation by bringing worldwide competition into play. This has dramatically
influenced employment conditions in industrialized countries, by dividing the workforce into
unskilled workers, whose wages are exposed to competitive forces in the global market place,
and skilled workers, with little or no competition from developing countries, whose wages
remain unrestricted.
This labour division configures automatically income and wealth distribution. A paper
published last year by the OECD states, "During the more recent period, income inequality
has increased in about half of the OECD countries studied, while none of the remaining
countries recorded an unambiguous decrease in inequality." [Förster 2000]
According to an Economic Institute Policy paper, after more than three decades of steady
increase , real wages in the US stopped rising in 1973. They stagnated for about six years, and
after 1979 began to drop. In 1999, "after six years of very strong economic expansion" and
near-record low unemployment, "the wages of the typical worker in real terms are 10 percent
below where they were in 1979." [Faux 1998]
In Great Britain during the 1960s, roughly 10 percent of the population had incomes below
half the contemporary average , falling to 6 percent in 1977. The proportion reached over 20
percent in 1991 [Hills 1998], and, according to new data from the Department of Social
Security (DSS), in 1999, two years after the election of Prime Minister Blair, poverty had
increased to over 24 percent of all households.
In Anglo-Saxon countries that have deregulated labour markets like Great Britain, the US or
New Zealand, inequalities have translated into a wealth gap, and a sharp increase in poverty.
These have also increased in most countries of Continental Europe, although higher minimum
wages have put a safety net under poverty. Examining poverty dynamics in Canada,
Germany, the United Kingdom and the United States, an OECD report shows that between
12 and 40 percent of the population across the four countries were affected by poverty over
the six-year period of the study. A comparison was also made before and after social benefit
payments, showing relatively no difference in the US where benefit payments are minimal,
and a difference of more than three times in poverty figures in Continental Europe,
establishing that "the tax and transfer system sharply reduces poverty rates, particularly as
regards longer-term poverty". [Antolín et. al. 1999]
However, the divisive effect of labour deregulation in Continental Europe has had for main
consequence another type of inequality, one in work distribution, exacerbating the economical
and social gap between those having access to work, and those unemployed and left behind.
Whereas unemployment rates in March 2001 stood at 5.2 percent in the UK and 4.3 percent
in the US, the EU average stood at 8.4 percent, with the median rate of the four major
European economies standing at around 10 percent. Moreover, during the 1990s,
unemployment rates have shrunk in the US and the UK while they have increased in many
EU countries.
Governments faced with high level of structural unemployment are compelling "the
unemployed to accept all kinds of work at the lowest rates of pay," which will further serve
"to undercut negotiated wage rates and to enforce a severe reduction of wage levels in general."
[Niethammer & Rippert 2001] The French government has reduced the number of
unemployed by 1 million in the last three years. However, the almost totality of the jobs that
have been created do not pay more than the minimum wage. [Le Monde, 29 mars 2001] In
Spain, the problem of ending high unemployment, which stood at 22.7 percent in 1995, was
resolved by creating thousands of temporary and casual jobs both in the public and private
sectors. [Short 2001] In Italy, "the main force at the base of the ongoing job miracle is the
flexibilisation of the labor market through an increasing share of part-time and temporary
positions." [Guzzo 2001]
The OECD paper on income inequalities states, "Joblessness is the main cause of poverty."
However, in a number of countries like Canada, Denmark, Greece, Sweden, the UK, the US,
"households with one earner also have above-average poverty rates, indicating the existence of
a working-poor phenomenon." [Förster 2000]
Inequalities have not only taken place among different classes of workers, but within each
class as well. Due to weakened trade unions’ influence, companies have been able to
individualize labour contracts, and differentiate workers within the same professional group.
[Fitoussi 2001] This has, effectively, crushed any bargaining power left, and, by breaking the
common sense of equity so fundamental to our societies, it has developed a deep feeling of
individual isolation.
These profound social imbalances find place in a favourable economic environment, especially
in Anglo-Saxon countries. Unemployment in the US and the UK has fallen to levels not seen
since the late 1960s, when the last great economic boom was in full bloom. However, one
major difference between those two periods stands out. The post-WW2 expansion that ended
with the recessions of the 1970s generated a widespread rise in the standards of living, in the
US as well as in Europe. "During the ‘Golden Age’ of American capitalism (1947 to 1973)
wages kept pace with productivity: U.S. labor productivity grew by 2.4 percent per year and
inflation-adjusted wages by 2.6 percent per year." [Wolff 2001] It has not been the case
during the last two decades. On the contrary, the "new era of technology-led productivity
enhancement" [Roach 2001] has failed to lift all boats, and despite their contribution to
productivity growth, many middle-class workers have experienced wage growth that has
seriously lagged behind the overall economy. [Bernstein et. al. 1999]
State, democracy …
Pressing for economic modernization further have been the strict accounting rules imposed by
markets on governments, seriously limiting their use of "counter-cyclical policies that lifted
their economies out of recession in the post-war period". [Gray 1998, 79] As the case of
France between 1981 and 1983 clearly illustrates, the most powerful tool that markets used to
oblige governments in their market-friendly and clean balance sheet policies has been their
control of the currency markets. Since the last shoe of the fixed-exchange mechanisms of the
Bretton Woods monetary system, based on a strong American dollar tied to gold, fell in 1971,
paper money, with no reference to fix its worth, has been exchanged freely, its value
determined by the markets. This controlling power over exchange rates influenced, in turn,
interest rates that bond markets asked from governments trying to raise funds internationally:
risks of currency weakness would immediately translate into higher borrowing costs through
higher interest rates. In this way, markets have constrained governments’ monetary capacities
and economic influence.
Additionally weakening governments’ position, multinational companies, local or foreign,
have lobbied for a favourable tax environment, and for relaxed labour market conditions, before
allocating or displacing production centres, influencing in this way national economic policies.
In some cases, governments have generously ‘subsidized’ companies with taxpayers’ money,
in order to prevent them from moving their production abroad, and leave behind thousands of
angry citizens unemployed.
However, backed by transnational organizations, companies have had no difficulties in
convincing politicians of the soundness and necessity of their goals, and most governments
have eagerly supported this trend. The collapse of the Soviet Empire and the IT revolution
have transformed the movement towards globalisation into a rush, and opened a new El
Dorado of potential profits beyond most shareholders’ and CEO’s dreams. Sharing this
vision, government officials travelling abroad will from now on fill their jets with executives
and brilliant projects of business ‘cooperation’.
The combined pressure of financial markets on one side, and multi-national companies on the
other have considerably weakened democratically-elected governments, which have quickly
lost credibility in the eyes of their electorate, unaware of the forces at play. In most countries,
this has turned into open distrust when a textbook combination of weak authority and
powerful capital buying its way around engendered innumerable cases of corruption and
financial scandals.
… and political anomy
In most industrialized countries, distrust in the political class has translated by record low
turnouts at recent national or supranational elections.
In the 1996 US presidential election, less than half the electorate participated (49.1 percent),
and only slightly more in the last one (51.2 percent). [Sandel 2001]
In Germany’s State elections of 2001, only 62 percent of voters went to the polls. [Schwarz
2001] In the 1999 German elections for European Parliament, less than half the electorate
went to the polls, the lowest turnout since the first direct elections to the European
Parliament in 1979. [Rodenberg 1999] Overall turnout for this election fell below 50 percent
for the first time since 1979. [The Economist, Feb 22, 2001]
In 2001 in Austria, voters’ participation was 66.5 percent, a very low figure for Austria, and
2 percent below the total for 1996. In the period following the Second World War, elections in
Vienna often drew 90 percent of the voters. [Rippert 2001]
In the General Election of February 2001 in Israel, turnout was the lowest in the country’s
history.
To cast their vote in order to elect individuals that will be responsible to represent their
interests in the administration of public affairs is the only act by which citizens participate in
the democratic process. To abstain from exercising this right constitutes a warning to the
political class. [Subileau & Toinet 1993, 145]
Economical limitations imposed on politicians by the markets have certainly influenced the
lack of political enthusiasm by most electorates, mainly because it has narrowed the
possibility to differentiate one political platform from the other.
Further accentuating uniformity and banality in mainstream political discourses has been the
widespread use of political consultants. A chiefly American industry, it has spread a few of
its ‘star’ advisers all over the world, to counsel heads of states like Bill Clinton and Tony
Blair, but also Eduardo Duhalde, Boris Eltsine, Jacques Chirac, Ehud Barak and Ariel Sharon.
[See Halimi 1999; Nagourney 2001]
These strategists sell a political campaign to their clients: just like in the world of
advertisement, the more successful a campaign, the more likely the same campaign will be
repeated, with minor adaptations to local conditions and customs. Consultants are thus
transforming political programmes and discourses into products that can be commercialised,
with citizens as end consumers. They do not use political content as main distinctive factor,
but focus instead on individualities, developing most campaigns around personal elements that
rapidly give way to a low tit-for-tat controversy.
With all clearly defined, strong political substance being removed from most electoral
platforms, political motivations disappear and levels of participation decline. Besides, by
depreciating the political discourse into a series of personal calumnies, it estranges political
campaigning from political reality, leaving as meaningless the notion of political mandate.
On one hand, as Boy and Mayer have shown, political participation increases with
educational levels and professional integration. [Boy & Mayer 1997, 50] By degrading
political contest to the lowest common denominator, its debate becomes less appealing to the
motivated segment of the population.
On the other hand, according to Bréchon, social exclusion, due to low professional skills,
unemployment and/or poverty that have isolated part of the electorate, has increased political
abstention: "The less socially integrated an individual is, the greater the chance he will abstain
from voting." [Bréchon 1998, 35]
With the decrease in electorate participation, and the gradual hollowing-out of political
content, democracy is experiencing a dangerous decay in its norms and its substance. This
phenomenon has motivated the trend towards political and religious fundamentalisation as
reactive expression.
Social apartheid
The primary reality of the economic growth of the 1980s and 1990s in industrialized nations
has been that the wealth it has created has been dispensed to a very specific and limited class
of the population: "as the returns to work have atrophied, returns to capital have climbed,
shifting ever more power to the rich and contributing to the rising inequality of income."
[Wolff 2001] With its obsession for competition and its winner-takes-it-all mentality, the
present free market model has rejected an increasing number of people. Their ranks have been
fed by a middle class that has constantly lost ground throughout the two decades.
Destabilized by economic inequality, mounting job uncertainty , and social insecurity, they
are trapped between a wealthy and more than ever out-of-reach upperclass, and a fast growing
underclass from which they see themselves less and less differentiated. Economic achievement
focusing all aspirations, the population has been very simply divided into two classes,
creating a social ‘apartheid’ between the ones who have, who are inclined, as a group, to
isolate themselves so as to protect their possessions and status , and the rest.
Aggravating the social malaise, free market forces, commanding no restraints, have gradually
stripped state institutions of their economic powers, and severely curtailed their scope for
action. This has translated into an increased feeling of anomy and powerlessness among
voters, and has led many to look for solutions outside mainstream political parties. To fight
the impression of impending chaos, a widening audience has turned to more radical ideals:
fascist ideology has been the main beneficiary of this trend, manifest in the renaissance of
political parties bringing forward extreme-right manifestos, and of groups of mostly young
people displaying shamelessly their neo-nazi beliefs.
PART TWO - The Fascist Alternative, An Opportunity
Institutionalisation of the movement
As the decline of Soviet communism got underway, fascist ideology, after three decades of
banishment, sensed an opportunity. With WW2 traumas vanishing, new (or renewed)
extreme-right political parties emerged in several industrialized countries during the 1970s and
the 1980s, like in Norway the Progress Party (PP) founded in the 1970s, or in Belgium the
Vlaams Blok (VB) created in 1978.
The shift from left to right can be particularly observed in France, which had, between the
Second World War and the 1970s, the most important communist party (PCF) outside Russia
and China. During three decades, it gathered on average 23 percent of the French electorate. It
broke the trend in 1981, scoring 16.2 percent, and fell to 9.8 percent in the 1986 general
election. Almost symmetrically, the National Front (FN), France’s main extreme-right
political party, scored 0.2 percent in 1981, jumped to 9.9 percent in 1986, and reached a high
of 14.9 percent in 1997.
The same trend appears in Austria. Between 1956 and 1983, the extreme-right Freedom Party
(FPÖ) attracted an average of 6 percent of the votes. It broke this trend in 1986, just like the
French National Front did, to reach a high of 28.3 percent in 1995.
All far-right parties share two intertwined basic features: an extreme repulsion to anything
foreign or different, and the absolute prevalence of the nation, with citizens’ total submission
to state’s authority. These principles deny two fundamental democratic values: equality
between individuals, and personal liberty.
Nevertheless, these parties, pragmatic, institutionalised, have grown through democratic
means by putting on a proper, politically correct image to fit in the political system. The great
majority of them conquer voters’ hearts with populist and xenophobic slogans. For their
electorate, often referred to as a ‘protest vote’ against the political establishment and its
policies, the lack of practical social and economical program does not carry much significance.
A study of French FN voters shows that approximately half of them define themselves as
non-political or as disenchanted leftists. [Mayer 1999, 223] A survey conducted after the
1991 elections in Belgium revealed that about one third of the right-wing voters expressed
feelings of protest or disillusion with 'traditional' political parties and the government. More
importantly, the survey underlined that the social categories that tend to bring their vote to
the VB are manual workers, young people between 18 and 25 years of age , or come from the
less educated layers of the population. [Billiet & De Witte 1995]
As for new far-right parties such as those found in New Zealand, Australia or Turkey, having
come to political life very recently, and for some of them in a spectacular way, they lack the
traditional electoral base that constitutes at least half the voters of older extreme-right parties.
To a great extent, they have developed on the dissatisfactions of a population that has been
excluded from the economical booms and the technological revolution of the 1980s and 1990s,
that lives in suburbs with a high concentration of inhabitants with a foreign origin , and that
has lost faith in the political establishment, accused of being totally disconnected from its
reality. Politically, economically and socially, they form the fast growing underclass, victims
of the divisive forces that have come with ultra-liberal economic policies. Low-skilled,
unemployed or part-time workers, with a low level of education, many of them are young,
living in neighbourhoods where average wages are low, where domestic and public violence is
rife, and where the major economical and social trends point towards an unrelenting increase in
poverty. All these elements conform to the above-mentioned description of potential far-right
voters. This underclass has fed the meteoric growth of new extreme-right parties, and
rejuvenated older ones. It has modelled the ‘politics of fear and anger’ [Suter 2001] of their
leaders, from France’s Jean-Marie Le Pen to Austria’s Jörg Haider or New Zealand’s Winston
Peters, who play their racist demagogy to acquire power : as Feliks Gross reminds us,
"Totalitarist strategy and tactics were effective in defeating democratic movements and
conquering societies which at one time cherished ideas of political freedom and respect for an
individual. The strength of those strategies was at least in part a consequence of a clear sense
of direction as well as the will to move toward the once established goals. Hence the sense of
direction and clarity of goals contributed to their successes and victory." [Gross 1985,
Introduction]
Appealing to the younger generation
Another manifestation of the renaissance of the fascist movement is idealistic and communal,
mostly represented by young people who will regroup under neo-nazi emblems, and use
coercion and violence to ‘free’ streets and neighbourhoods from ‘unwanted foreigners’.
At the beginning of the 1980s, for a new generation of youth, ideological alternatives that
would shape their revolt directed against the materialistic platform of the dominant trend were
few: communism was dying, and, excluding the environmental cause which attracted many
disappointed leftists, fascism was the only development in sight that could provide them with
stimulating motives and appealing ideals to follow.
Sensing these changes ahead of time, the ‘punk’ movement was a precursory indication of
what was to come. The trademark of that generation was one of destruction, and increasing
use of ‘meaningless’ violence. Often coming from suburbs wrecked by unemployment, with
an important if not dominant foreign community, these young people represented the perfect
ground for fascist ideology. The message it conveyed was easy to absorb: foreigners take
your jobs away, and destroy the fabrics of your society. Simple enough to bring home the
logical conclusion, this call against foreigners ringed like a holy war, and perfectly fit their
longing for destructive action. Combining its magnetic "worship of strength and violence"
[Gross 1985, 254-255] to its racist content, fascism has assembled these young people into
its soldierly organisation around a manifest and specific expression of their life fulfilment, and
structured their confrontation with the social and political establishment.
In Europe, it has developed into what has become a plague of arsons and attacks by neo-nazi
and other fascist groups on foreign individuals, on places sheltering immigrants, and on other
symbols through which a discriminatory content can be expressed, such as the profanation of
Jewish graveyards. Although characteristic to these groups, violence is by no mean reserved
to them. Urban violence, and more recently school violence, in the United States and in
Europe, has mostly been generated by individuals and not by groups, and its victims have not
been targeted as a specific class of citizens. However, what specifically belongs to neo-fascist
violence is its systematic racist orientation. Crimes on coloured individuals in Great Britain or
in Norway , attacks on foreigners and refugee centres in Germany , aggressions on Jews in
France , all point to an alarming increase in unrestricted manifestations of racist feelings since
the beginning of the 1990s.
Moreover, looming beyond the racist actions undertaken by these fanatic groups is the
increasing challenge to the sacrosanct monopolistic use of violence by the state. Burkhard
Schröder, analysing the far-right movement in Germany, noted: "Neo-Nazis in the East
consider themselves to be a factor dealing with order in direct competition to the police. They
attempt to give the impression that they are more in a position to protect the population from
the possibly damaging consequences of 'mass' immigration and the controversy between
diverse cultural traditions than the political leadership." [Schröder 1997, 19] In Sweden,
Philippe Sonde reported: "The actions of neo-Nazis … have for some time been taking more
violent forms. What is new is that the neo-Nazi violence is now openly directed against
representatives of the state, the legal system and the press. Death threats against judges, state
attorneys and journalists are increasing. Witnesses in criminal proceedings against neo-Nazis
are being intimidated, so that they do not make any statements or withdraw those already
made." [Sonde 2000]
At first look, this use of violence links the present fight of extreme-right groups to the
violence used by extreme-left movements in the 1960s and 1970s. However, by being
directed against foreigners and minorities, the consequences of today’s fascist violence cannot
be dismissed as the blood trail that extreme-left terrorist action left some thirty years ago: the
latter attacked society through murdering its representatives, high functionaries or
businessmen. For the silent majority, this line of action has never been considered as
representing a viable alternative, and has thus been easy for ruling authorities to condemn,
which they always forcefully did. Today’s much bloodier extreme-right actions, by attacking
an enemy who, by definition, remains outside the citizenry, are of a much greater appeal to
the population, and therefore, politically much more difficult to condemn.
Xenophobia as alternative
By stimulating hatred and segregation as a way-out to the problems of social exclusion and
insecurity, extreme-right parties pose, as they have done before, a major threat to the
democratic standards that industrialized nations have slowly and painfully developed. They
have already scored several victories, notably by imposing immigration and security as core
themes in most mainstream political agendas.
Economically, without any specific platform other than what benefits their political goals,
they will likely implement protectionist policies in order to gain support from the working
classes. However, they do not contest private property, they do not propose a redistribution
of wealth, they do not challenge the viability of capitalism. All the contrary, they pretend to
be the fierce supporters of its principles through their program, in which society, ruled by
"law and order", must recover its ‘core’ national values. Easily accepted by all class of
population, such a program will certainly appeal to a wide range of middle class citizens who
fear the rampant insecurity in their neighbourhoods and inner cities , and to the workers who
have lost or are afraid to loose their jobs because of increased competitive ‘globalisation’. The
"protective function of states is likely to expand, as citizens demand shelter from the anarchy
of global capitalism." [Gray 1998, 77]
The ruling class has first witnessed the renaissance of fascist ideology with alarm, but has
progressively come to accept the far-right political movement. Traditional parties, whose
distinctive ideological elements have disappeared, have buried themselves in an increasingly
competitive system, using marketing mechanisms in which each vote gained is viewed as an
increase in market-share, and which have resulted so far in an undifferentiated and
directionless political amalgam. With their markedly different political discourse appealing to
a growing number of voters, extreme-right parties have therefore raised mainstream political
parties’ interest. Furthermore, the vision of a strong state and of a strong nation put forward
by these parties appeals to most politicians’ civic sense, whatever the colour of their banner.
This has softened the reaction of the political class towards other less attractive aspects of
extreme-right activism, albeit not publicly: condemning fascism loudly in their speeches, the
uproar of governing institutions remains at best unconvincing, so weak are the actions
undertaken.
These actions tend chiefly to criminalize the xenophobic characteristics of these movements.
Many countries have elaborated or updated laws forbidding racist and discriminatory contents
in speeches and other means of expression. These measures, however, have had but little
impact, and a growing number of officials, intellectuals and citizens have asked for a
strengthening of state’s repressive capacities. Nowhere have these tendencies been more
discussed than in Germany where extreme-right violence has provoked a national debate. By
banning extreme-right parties, by limiting individuals’ fundamental rights like the right to
freedom of opinion and expression or the right to assemble, and by giving more power to
police forces, partisans of a tough stance against fascism not only undermine the democratic
values they supposedly try to protect, but they might also put in place a repressive structure
that could be, at a later date, conveniently used by a ‘democratically’ elected far-right
government.
Widespread disillusionment, uninspired political leadership, and growing chaotic economic
conditions are the main elements that will assure fascism’s advance, just like they did in the
first half of the 20th century in Italy and Germany. Then as well, it came as a reaction to an
unprecedented wave of international ‘laissez-faire’ defined by non-interference of
governments in economic matters. Eventually, this trend capsized with WW1, and sunk
during the Great Depression of the 1930s, leaving in its wake the economical and political
chaos that gave birth to modern fascism. Communism was, at that time, the black sheep in all
fascist mantras, giving its struggle the manipulative power of ideological respectability.
Today, the ideological varnish is gone. Only the xenophobic substance remains.
PART THREE - The Equalitarian Alternative, A Duty
"With us the individual is neither ground small between the millstones of capitalism, nor
beheaded by the levelling-down-process of socialism. We know the value of the development of
the individual, just as we respect and protect its economic foundation, private property."
[Theodor Herzl; in Heinze-Greenberg 1995, 82]
Since the beginning of the 20th century, an ideological alternative based on equality as its
fundamental principle has been at work in the kibbutzim. All along its almost hundred yearold history, this movement has developed a pluralistic society built on shared equalitarianism
while respecting individual freedom, and has integrated it to its surrounding democratic and
capitalist environment.
It has also provided new grounds for the social development of the individual on several
fronts, by creating and maintaining "a balance between the realisation of values of
individualism and of collectivism" [Leviathan et. al. 1998, 159], by untying work from salary,
and by offering effective solutions to the alienating pattern reigning in many aspects of our
society, notably through the implementation of direct democracy in the decision-making
process.
The kibbutz we will discuss here is what Getz called the ‘normative’ kibbutz [Getz 1998,
21], or what Ben-Rafael refers to as the ‘classical’ kibbutz [Ben-Rafael 1997, 15].
A pluralistic system within the system
The ideological movement that gave birth to the creation of kvutzot, starting point of the
kibbutz movement, was born among young people in the Jewish diaspora. Motivated by
revolutionary ideals against the dominance of ‘laissez faire’ capitalism in pre-WW1 Europe,
and as a reaction to the traditional Jewish society in which they lived, they responded to the
appeal of founding a Jewish state in Palestine. [Cohen 1983, 80] They brought with them the
socialist ideals that were brewing in Europe, particularly in Tsarist Russia. After suffering
centuries of ostracism and racial segregation, these ideals suited perfectly their longing for a
free society based on equality. As Cohen writes, "The kibbutz was conceived at one and the
same time as an end in itself, as well as a means towards broader societal ends; it was an
ideological creation, but unlike other utopian movements it was also expected to fulfil national
tasks and, hence, had to adapt itself effectively to changing conditions." [Cohen 1983, 80-81]
Some forty years later, the Jewish state was established. Having played a strategic role in its
formation, the kibbutz movement had become an integral part of the landscape of the new
country. Its assimilation into the capitalist structure of the nation, although not without
problems, acknowledged the creation of a system within the system: a structure of
communities based on equality, integrated in a state ruled by democratic principles, with a
capitalist economic configuration. Today, more than 50 years on, this double system is still in
place, and exemplifies how a democratic environment can further improve.
Although chiefly developed around Zionist and socialist ideals, the kibbutz movement has
proved open and flexible enough to allow the growth of various, and sometimes opposite
aspects. From the hard-line Marxist community to the orthodox religious one, kibbutzim
come in all size and shape. Some have a major ethnic component (French at Hanita, for
example); others are based on political or religious values (the anarchist Samar, the Jewish
Lavy, the protestant Nezanim); others still gather their members around a common interest
(artistic development, meditation). These multiple sources of motivation have created a
pluralistic society, allowing a rainbow of communities to cohabit within the same boundaries,
under the same skies.
A similar diversity can be observed in their economic realisation: established as agricultural
settlements, most kibbutzim are nowadays industrialized, and many are developing serviceoriented branches. From ostrich research facilities to biological pesticides, from Epilady to
educational training, the kibbutzim have been often compared to as many enterprises,
depending on their economic viability and their adaptableness to assure the survival of their
community. They will act as any other enterprise, trying to expand their market share and
maintain a competitive edge through innovation.
As integral and important part of their country’s economy, their economic development has
closely followed that of the Israeli society, and has been deeply affected by international
economic trends: "constantly confronted with the institutions and opportunities of the
surrounding societies", the kibbutzim had to struggle all the way to "retain their cultural,
economic, and ideological identity." [Barkin & Bennet 1983, 344-345] Their social dynamism
and economic fertility have prevented the movement’s calcification and decay.
Equality as a means
The kibbutz grants sovereignty to each person within an equalitarian community. [Ben-Rafael
et. al. 1983, 3] It aims at enabling each to enrich his individual existence while realizing the
best social conditions for everyone.
While developing a social system integrating its members around the principle of shared
equality, it respects "the differences between humans, born from inequalities in their natural
gifts, and from inequalities in their achievements, in their work as humans endowed with their
liberty." Indeed, equality does not contradict liberty, equality does not oppose liberty,
equality does not penalize liberty. Equality allows liberty to develop its means: it is the moral
order on which liberty grows.
Equality, like liberty, is not an end in itself but a means, and, just like each individual
determines what defines liberty, accordingly each determines what defines equality. When
liberty represents the constantly moving and continuously adjusted balance of relations
between individuals, equality then serves as continuous frame, and as constant guideline to
structure the parameters that define one’s liberty.
Equality does not generate similarity. ‘Natural’ inequalities give human nature its richness.
That inequalities are unavoidable is not only true but also desirable. [Marx 1970, I, 3]
However, inequalities must not be created by the surrounding society. Each individual comes
with his specific qualities that make him distinct from everyone else. These qualities enable
him to find his place in the history of his time. To develop his personal qualities, to realise his
individual potential, he will use the resources and opportunities provided by his social
environment. These have to be equally accessible to everyone in the society.
For these reasons, "Sharing equality is implemented, in the kibbutz, as a central value
applying to all major sphere of life." [Ben-Rafael 1997, 15] It has been the basic element that
has motivated, and still motivates individuals in living on a kibbutz.
Work as an end
One major building block on which kibbutzim have set up their equalitarian structure has been
the untying of work from salary, departing thus significantly from the consensual structure
based on equity that has developed in modern western societies.
"Historically, the kibbutz movement has always promoted dignity of work as one of its main
ideal… the settlers did not regard their work as a means to an end but as an end in itself."
[Ben-David 1983, 39-40] Work is the initial capital, the fundamental asset of each human
being. It is the most important tool given to us, to help us satisfy our multiple needs. [Hegel
1966] In the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, "Everyone has the right to work" ; it
also stands in France’s Constitution: "Everyone has the duty to work and the right to obtain
work."
However, the exercise of this right, and of this duty, is not equally available to everyone.
Access to work, and hierarchical structures relating individuals to work are the major source of
inequalities in our societies. These are not ‘natural’ inequalities, intrinsic to human nature, but
social ones, purely dictated by economical and political considerations. They represent one of
the least noble realisations of our democratic societies.
Access to the social body is determined by work. It is an essential reference, used and shared
by everyone to position oneself, and to relate with others. Not only does it provide the means
to survive and satisfy the needs of individuals and families, but it also plays a decisive role in
social relationships; it also allows one’s life fulfilment and potential achievements, and it also
gives access to private property. Most importantly, it confers one’s social and personal
dignity, and it remains the unique means of progress for any civilisation.
To deprive anyone of work prevents him from securing his fundamental needs, and amounts
to deny him a place in society and a vital part of his human dignity. Adversity and destitution
affecting people with no access to work are the results of a major social injustice: work must
be for everyone a right, for everyone a duty.
Kibbutzim have implemented this principle: by releasing work from its financial reward, they
have established the premises of a classless society in which "everyone, regardless of his
work, is viewed as a worker, with the same privileges and responsibilities as anyone else."
[Spiro 1956, 23-24]
Severing work from remuneration has had far-reaching consequences, first and foremost in
altering the way individuals relate to work. The monetary valuation of work having
disappeared, other references have surfaced, enabling each individual to determine what work
suits him best. Because no financial sanction rewards, or penalises one’s choice, a much more
personal approach has emerged, with intrinsic desires and capacities as primary motivating
factors. This has begun to exert a profound and beneficial influence on individual selffulfilment.
Finally, the alienating aspects of modern work have partially receded, due to the fact that
members who are working in the kibbutz’ industrial or agricultural plants are at the same time
employed by and owners of the means of production. The estrangement effect of work
fragmentation is therefore minimised. Even though most do not participate in the management,
they know that ultimately no one else but them, as individuals and as a community, profit
from their work. They neither sell their work, nor their energy, nor their time: they use these
for their own purpose, for their own benefit.
Horizontal approach
Another major aspect of the kibbutz paradigm is its ‘horizontal’ approach in the decisionmaking procedure: it engages the individual in a system of direct democracy, and partially
suppresses the social and political alienation by inciting every member to participate. "Static
or behaviour limiting" hierarchies [Gross 1985, Foreword] are few, and a rotation system has
prevented "accumulation of power and influence." [Getz 1998, 21-22] The kibbutzim
"provide the psychological integration at the small-group level through direct democracy and
maximum involvement of their people." [Katz & Golomb 1983, 72-73] Kibbutz-democracy is
therefore seen as "an instrument towards a growing identification of the members with the
community." [Rosner & Cohen 1983, 212-214]
The limited size of the community mirrors the classical antique city in which direct
democracy was developed into becoming an important activity of the citizen. Representative
democracy, which succeeded that ‘archaic’ form of political exercise, allowed expanded
communities to participate in the political system. However, by organising the whole
structure around the timely vote of each citizen by secret ballot, the actual exercise of
democratic rights has entirely excluded all consensual relations, among individuals as well as
between groups of citizens and ruling authorities. Public debate, other than through the
filtering mechanisms of today’s media, has practically disappeared, isolating in its democratic
activity each citizen from his community. By spacing participation across time, this form of
democracy has also increased individuals’ passivity, and weakened their political strength as
against that of constantly active lobbies and special interest groups. Finally, the growing
bureaucracy on one hand, and specialisation of political management with its elitist aura on
the other has further estranged the decision-making process from democratic activity.
Kibbutzim, in their quest for equality, have reacted against hierarchical restrictions and
individual disengagement by re-introducing consensual debate, and active participation in
many, if not all administrative decisions. These give the community the ability to "solve
common problems" and "act together practically without a mechanism of law enforcement and
punishment". [Gross 1985, 261-263] They further engage the community to address
individual conflicts not by referring to a set of "rights and duties", which are inexistent in the
first place, but by considering "a particular case in a particular context" [Kamenka & Tay
1971], and the member involved as a "whole man, bringing with him his status, his occupation
and his environment, all of his history and social relationships" [Kamenka & Tay 1975]. This
individualistic approach also reduces the alienating process by making systematically
reference "to specific individuals and not to anonymous units." [Rosner & Cohen 1983, 212214]
With their use of direct democracy, the kibbutzim have developed a regulating system of
unwritten laws agreed upon by all members, with the aim, on one hand, to realize "a
community which is grounded in sharing egalitarianism", and, on the other hand, to relate "to
this community principle in terms of no less fundamental individualistic aspirations." [BenRafael 1997, 14-15]
The kibbutz as paradigm
This "unique small-scale system dominated by the values of fraternity and equality" [Vallier
1983, 334] has realized a "living version" [Barkin & Bennet 1983, 347] of various Western
utopian beliefs without having recourse to revolutionary despotism. It has demonstrated the
viability of a "non-doctrinaire" [Buber 1983, 31] pluralistic structure, with its own sets of
values and norms, developed within a broader democratic system, and tied to this system by
political, economical, cultural, social and historical mechanisms. Its horizontal approach,
"reducing vertical social differentiation" [Vallier 1983, 334], has succeeded in implementing
"an axis-principle which ... is the principle of satisfying the legitimate needs of its members
by recognizing the differences of individual needs" [Rosner 1993]. In the words of Martin
Buber, "Nowhere ... were men so deeply involved in the process of differentiation and yet so
intent on preserving the principle of integration." [Buber 1983, 31]
CONCLUSION
"Between the moral code of enmity and moral code of amity"
[Spencer 1879]
During the last twenty years, post-modern capitalism has instituted the "control of the
economic system by the market", which "means no less than the running of society as an
adjunct to the market". [Polanyi 1957] Economic and labour deregulations combined with the
globalisation of production and finance have left most industrialized nations plagued with
grave social imbalances. Besides, the omnipotent rule of free market, by drastically curtailing
the power of governments, has also undermined democratic values.
Democracy participates in the progress towards globalisation that has gathered speed with the
scientific and technological revolutions of the last centuries. One most positive aspect of the
entire globalisation phenomenon has been to promote the expansion of what Herbert Spencer
has defined as the ‘in-group’, in which production and cooperation are dominant rules, and in
which "love and aid your fellow man is the command". [Spencer 1879] Automatically, the
extension of the ‘in-group’ leads to a consequent contraction of the ‘out-group’, towards
which policies of aggression and defence are dictated, and for which "hate and destroy your
fellow man is … the command". [Spencer 1879] As the in-group grows to include an ever
greater number of people and communities, it reduces at the same time the out-group to an
always more specific cluster.
That is what globalisation should be all about: to strengthen ties among people in order to
bring under control and minimize the possibilities of war, and of human or natural destruction.
Fascism, time and again, reverses this historical process. Promoting racial and national
superiority, fascism builds its power on the conflict lying "between the moral code of enmity
and moral code of amity". [Spencer 1879] It emphasises the ‘dual ethics’ of the in- and outgroups, while repressing mankind’s desire to create a peace-oriented world by overcoming its
internal differences.
To make certain history won’t repeat itself even though it is already stuttering, we should
ponder the words of Michael Sandel, "Civic values and political commitment have always
depended and fed on the feeling of belonging to a community or to a specific tradition… In a
world ruled by international structures … particular forms of identity and community will not
be of lesser, but of greater relevance." [Sandel 2001]
The kibbutz movement has developed a model that allows each individual to build his or her
own "project of life" [Delsol 1997], that links the individual to his community "through
symbols reflecting a common way of life, a common history, and a common fate" [Katz &
Golomb 1983, 55], and that assembles and preserves through its modular structure the rich
diversity of human aspirations. It has clearly established that equalitarian values can be
integrated in a democratic society, and will provide it with a renewed ideological impetus.
The pendulum movement towards the right of the political spectrum that started in the 1970s
is far from being completed. Although we cannot pretend to stop it, and even less reverse it, it
is our duty to slow its movement, and prevent its swing to carry us too far away off-balance.
Its destructive force could be decelerated by re-igniting the fundamental principles that have
sustained democratic ideology, not by leaning on a nostalgic reminiscence of their past, but by
shaping the image of their future realities. By unveiling the possibilities that they still carry in
their core, by realizing how profoundly they still could form and transform our enlightened
civilisation, we could act on those forces that profit from chaotic circumstances.
The many structural problems that confront our societies, and the recent anti-globalisation
protests show how much another alternative is needed. A return to post-WWII stability that
associated managed capitalism, with its steady and widespread improvement in the general
standards of living, and the counterbalancing act of black-and-white passions is very unlikely.
A new equilibrium has to emerge, in which individuals and communities determine the values
and goals that are so necessary for our accomplishment as human beings, and in which the
economy’s function is restored to its proper role, which is to serve this accomplishment.
Our democratic values and systems, despite progress realized these last fifty years in relation
with human rights and social equality, especially regarding women and minorities, are not as
strong and as universal as we suppose they are. To keep democracy alive, we have to give it
the necessary resources so that it can confront the new looming challenges, and, as a result
achieve its greater potentials.
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1.5 Relationships
Community Sustainability: The challenge of inter-generational
change.
Peter H Cock.
Monash University and Moora Moora Community Australia
Surviving beyond the establishment phase.
Building intergenerational connections- experiences and strategies
•
•
•
•
Intergenerational change in a world of diminished community and ecology
Welcoming all generations and providing for the whole of ones life cycle?
Structures and policies for intergenerational change
Working with what generations bring to community dialectics
Introduction
'Far more difficult than the transfer of wealth from one country to another is the transfer of
wisdom between generations' (Hardin: 1998).
There once was a community near where I live. Its land is now a collection of rented or empty
houses. What happened to the energy and idealism? It died out. Kantor (1972) said that for a
community to be considered successful it needs to survive for a generation. Others have
argued that success is in the eye of the beholder. However, success through longevity is
important for the merging of social with ecological sustainability.
This paper addresses the issue of sustainable community development from the perspective
of communities seeking to live beyond one generation. The basic proposition of this paper is
in line with Max Weber's view that communities that survive through time evolve from
charisma to an intentional organisational phase, and then towards an embedded culture. This
assumed culture is then challenged as part of community regeneration. My community,
Moora Moora, started in an ideological ferment. We went through endless struggle to develop
a set of policies and ways of doing things. Once the structure was set, meetings became
shorter, less tense, and less important in the life of the community. We had become a village.
More recently, new, younger people joined, and once more meetings are tense, stormy -- and
often productive. While such a process is necessary it is often painful and manifest through
intergenerational as well as interpersonal conflicts.
For social as well as ecological sustainability, there needs to be both change and continuity.
The challenge is how to engage in these processes in a way that honours the past while being
open to the future. Can the structures and processes of intentional community ensure that
each member (young and old) connects with both dimensions of this need? One woman
refuses to come to meetings. She has disempowered herself, rather than face the rehash after
rehash of old battles.
The cause of sustainability is not furthered if the old or the new opt out of this dialectic. It is
vital that we ensure old learning’s are honored and new possibilities explored. To survive and
live fully, a community needs to work directly with the social inevitability, even necessity, of
conflict while recognizing that it has to be used creatively to generate new possibilities.
I address these issues through the example of Moora Moora Community, one of a number of
surviving 1970's communities in Australia (Cock: 1979). We established ourselves in 1974, on
245 hectares of a mountain top on the urban-rural fringe of Melbourne, Australia. We are 26
households in 6 clusters of up to 5 houses, with a community/education centre located in the
centre of the community. The land, of forest and farm, is held in common, while the houses
are privately owned. As part of my research for this paper I interviewed formally and
informally a range of members and invited responses to a draft of this paper. This material has
been used for illustrative examples and comparative reference for my own views.
The down turn in interest in intentional communities in the 1980’s has been followed by an
upsurge since the mid 1990’s, with a new generation of potential community members (see
Dearling: 2000). The challenge is to find a bridge across the generational divide created by the
ups and downs of demand for communities? How can we convert this interest into new
members in existing communities? Can we sustain and renew our social capital?
It is a constant struggle to keep change and stability in each member’s mind and a constructive
part of community living. As this is new territory for me, l be asking questions, sharing
stories and perspectives. I don’t pretend to be able to predict the outcomes. I am inevitably
partisan, for I am part of the original generation struggling to remain present and open to the
future while working to honour our community heritage.
Surviving beyond the establishment phase.
Many intentional communities struggle to survive beyond the establishment phase. With good reason,
as most don’t survive and the few who do often wonder how they managed to.
This can happen for all sorts of reasons. For example, in the beginning Moora Moora was
resisted by local authorities that initially refused to approve our plans. We bought the land
without secure finance; we were split down the middle over the kind of culture we were
seeking to build, we were involved in a battle with authorities to stop the provision of coal
fired grid power to our mountain, we have been threaten by wild fires. Sub communities or
clusters have risen and fallen, as have relationships of varying kinds. We could as easily have
collapsed, been crushed or exploded as others have. How much was luck, a close call or good
management I don’t know.
What I have learnt out of the experience so far is that collective strength comes from clarity of
shared purpose, sustained through an organisational structure that is explicit while having
supportive mechanisms to ensure its sustainability. That is, it is backed up by social pressure
for individuals to participate and to carry out their agreed tasks, with clear lines of
responsibility and areas of authority. People may choose to join, or to leave, but within that
there needs to be real community boundaries that limit the scope of diversity in order to
ensure community cohesion.
Core social structures are needed through which a community can provide a social
environment to foster a system of values common to the members of the community.
A cohesive community is unlikely to emerge if its members do not subscribe to a system of
common values. While values must be shared, the community structure should recognise the
need for diversity, for example of ages and genders. Diversification of skills and the
development of social competence to share and care for oneself and each other are necessary
adjuncts to community purpose.
The security of the organisation is a requisite for the evolution of constructive informal
community dynamics. The naive vision of the simple life and self-sufficiency has been
suppressive of the capacity to develop and affirm the complex interdependencies that
retribalisation involves. Community identity and sustainability needs cultural features such as
customs, rituals and symbols, which are taken for granted. Many alternative seekers reject
corporate bureaucracy. Nevertheless, the development of clarity of form and function is a
necessary first step towards the development of these cultural features. It takes a long time to
rediscover and to evolve appropriate shared realms of the sacred that nourish the community
and sustain it during crisis.
Even with careful planning it is inevitable that the establishment phase of any social group,
especially for those that are innovative, is characterised by a period of high tension,
uncertainty and psycho/social trauma, with a high membership turnover and community death
rate.
Getting established is hard enough. Then when communities fall apart or explode, often this is
attributed to inter-personal conflict. Vital is developing appropriate community mechanisms
to distinguish symptom from cause, person from issue. What is needed is the shared will and
knowledge to make decisions about when and how to facilitate the creative use of conflict.
We have been socialised to live essentially private lives within impersonal worlds. We are
largely devoid of the experience of intimate sharing beyond family whether it is of our
feelings, friends, flesh or possessions. The power of this socialization is often denied by those
seeking community. A paradox is that contrary to common views, the kibbutz breeds
powerful persons! Attempts to overcome it are restricted by an understandable desire to hang
on to what we know and the security it brings. Retribalisation from our present cultural base
will involve struggle, pain, letting go and reaching out. In our culture we don't know what 21st
century tribalisation means and we therefore have so much to learn from other cultures that
have a long experience of tribal, village living.
Much can also be learnt from the longevity of religious communities. Whether their extremes
of collective accountability and communal organisation are necessary for other communities is
another matter. A transcendental community commitment of a spiritual, environmental and/or
political nature is necessary for sustainability (Kantor: 1972). There is a need for a number of
dynamic balances between the community's inner and outer life, consensus and dissent, selfsufficiency and community interdependence, personal desires and community interests.
To survive and live fully, a community needs to believe in the social necessity of conflict
while recognising that it has to be used creatively to generate new possibilities. If the
community is so organised that it lacks room for change or the stimulus of uncertainty then
boredom is the inevitable result. Moora Moora survives in part because it isn’t perfect,
cannot be managed by an individual, is unpredictable, and at times disorganized. Its elements
of chaos are a threat to the organizing mind and they may at least sometimes be part of our
sustainability.
Participation in a community requires some sacrifice of individual autonomy to achieve the
benefits of connectedness. This involves bonds, obligations and mutual interdependence that
are fundamentally incompatible with complete individualism. Australian society has opted for
the `freedom' of individualism and, as a result, has denied itself community. In contrast,
authoritarian regimes whether of the State and of some religious orders opt for the extreme of
collective power. Finding a dynamic balance between personal autonomy and community
commitment is essential to an understanding of the present struggle within intentional
communities and also within our culture.
Achieving the above highlights a paradox. Generating an intentional community culture so
successful that it is taken for granted presents a barrier to the innovation needed to sustain
community lifeblood.
Building intergenerational connections - some experiences
Intergenerational change in a world of diminished community and ecology
The materially rich and technologically powerful urban masses are increasingly deprived of
experience of community as part of their everyday life. Skills for community living have
radically declined in the last generation. Trends established in the 1970s have escalated with
children being socialized within one or two adult and sibling families.
In a generation there has been a change within the developed world from optimism to
pessimism, from material comfort and certainty to social and psychic disturbance. In the
International year of volunteers there has been a shift from a generation committed to service
to one that takes service for granted. As one disgruntled older community member said ‘they
don’t want to volunteer, they want to be paid’. The 1970’s were a period of optimism for
changing society, even shifting a paradigm. Instead there has been an intensification of the ills
identified in the 1970s and the rise of a virtual and an engineering world in biology and
technology that challenges not only our sustainability but also threatens to transform what we
are and how we interact. We are now in an era not only of a smaller family but one with lost
stability and increased speed. We are in an era of social and psychic deprivation. This is
connected to the spiritual crisis of meaning that comes from being part of a culture that the
contemporary generation knows is undermining the very web of life ( see Sheldrake&
Fox:1997).
Listening to Moora Moora members, it seems that basic motivations have not changed but the
stakes are higher, and the issues more sharply drawn. On the surface differences are perceived,
maybe because cultural modes of their expression have the mask of generational identification.
The ecological is higher on the agenda and more strident in its expression. I have a sense that
the utopian dream has diminished and motivations now seem more driven by social and
ecological necessity rather than choice and more by fear than hope. This is not surprising as
the state of the world, ecologically, socially and spiritually has declined (Southwick: 1996).
Welcoming all generations and providing for the whole of ones life cycle?
Only about one community in Australia is established from the ten who try. Many
disintegrate soon after. Many of the intentional communities that now exist in Australia and
New Zealand were established during the 1970's (Cock; 1979). Intergenerational issues are not
often addressed when a group is struggling to begin and move beyond the risky establishment
phase. This was as far as most could see. A generation later those that remain risk dying out
unless the passage of intergenerational change is charted. The ageing of communities is partly
due to delayed family formation, and higher mobility that inhibits willingness to settle in one
place. Most communities now have an ageing population and some are beginning to struggle
with old age and lack the energy to do what needs to be done.
Alchera community I consulted for had a median age of 60 years plus. While a cohesive and
small community of six households they had little structure for enabling a new generation to
join. The new members they attracted were of the same age. I felt I could contribute little as
they were locked into a one-generation structure. Nor were they too concerned if the
community folded with their demise. Another, larger community of Riverside in New
Zealand is having difficulty attracting a younger generation. One young family I interviewed,
were attracted by the ideals and the infrastructure of the place, but were put off by the lack of
other young families.
Moora Moora Cooperative Community began with a clean slate. We didn’t have the support
of being part of a community with a history. It was intentional, it all had to be designed,
decided and gradually evolved. Now 27 years into our co-operative community experience,
life is settling down, and stable patterns have been established - members can relax, breathe
and enjoy the present. The time for deferred gratification is over. We are who we are and we
have usually done the best we could. We are not perfect but we have made it through over a
generation, while most haven't. As one original member said ‘we have created an organic
culture that has a life of its own”. But then one fine morning we wake up to find that we are in
our fifties, our community is aging, often tired and worn.
We are now embarking on the journey to build intergenerational bridges. This requires a view
of the present in the context of looking forward and backward with equal intention. The
trouble is society has socialized us to not only believe in the power and autonomy of the
individual, but to interact increasingly only with peers. We know little about the challenge of
intergenerational change. Thirty years on, we are working to bring into the community a
younger generation. If we are not able to attract the next wave then we are doomed to a slow
dying out with the first generation.
Now that the community is established the next generation can draw on this supportive
context. The further down the track of the evolution from charisma to culture, however the
harder it is for new members to enter, for this culture provides constraint as well as security.
Once community culture and polices are established, they can easily be seen as oppressive of
initiative and freedom, the very responses that helped to provoke the west’s original flight
from the bonds of community.
Structures and policies for intergenerational change
We have so far made some effective steps to attract representatives of the preceding
generation – those in their thirties and forties verses the initial generation who are now in their
fifties and sixties. However teenagers, those in their twenties or seventy years plus are rare.
Young adults are manifest within the community through volunteers who come and stay.
Older age groups visit as parents and grandparents of members.
Our urban- rural fringe location, physical size and structures have been attractive to thirty to
forty year olds. In particular, the community has a loan scheme to help finance share and
house purchases, and guarantees that after 2 years of waiting to leave members will be bought
out by the community. Such steps make joining and leaving easier but not too easy.
The community has put the interests of the joining ahead of the leaving in order to sustain
itself. We are still to address the equity of exchange between leaving and joining. Joining the
community is very cheap relative to the value of the assets the community owns. It is
expensive if you are leaving, as what you receive back isn’t commensurate with what it costs
to move elsewhere.
What is still in the shadows is providing for an all-of-life membership opportunity. We are
still to address an explicit vision that defines community responsibilities that match members
varying and changing capacities. This is something the kibbutz movement has addressed well
through provision of work tailored to suit stages in one’s life cycle. This means addressing the
whole life cycle, from being born, to teenage years, to being an 80-year-old or chronically ill to
inclusion of the processes of dying and burial. As one older and now leaving member said ‘the
community needs to address the role of older people so they don’t feel they have to leave”.
The cooperative has recently financially supported two older members to move to the nearby
town and the idea has been suggested by a number of members to have cooperatively owned
units for elderly members in this town. This however, would mean that members would not
be encouraged to live out their lives within the physical and social place of the community.
Working with what generations bring to community dialectics
Intergenerational conflicts are real. Conflict between generations is inevitable given our current
cultural milieu. The tendency is for a newer, younger generation to wish to do things or at
least to be seen to do things differently. Each has a tendency to view the other generation as
not being capable of meeting the needs of the present. The younger generation sees the older
as having had too much experience that is locked into the past. The older generation sees the
younger as lacking sufficient experience in matters of significance.
Intergenerational divides are often latent in conflicts over established processes and honoring
of decisions. New, often-younger members perceive a cooperative establishment run by older,
longer serving members. An undercurrent to generational issues is the need to balance and
sustain community diversity with sufficient cohesion and change. However, change and
conflict is uncomfortable, exciting and often draining for older members repeatedly dragged
through persistent issues. It can be difficult to distinguish when change is a constructive or a
regressive move, for example, to shift from consensus’s decision making to majority rule, or to
have less or more bureaucracy. When is the change just a matter of a different way of
achieving the same ends, or something that threatens those ends? Are old members to embrace
the new or should they stand up early and say what is and isn’t negotiable, – to map limits to
tolerance and set boundaries?
When members participate in a revisioning process or a simple sharing circle we often
rediscover shared values and to a lesser extent our interests. That which is shared provides the
common ground on which to work with differences. I don't wish to mask or make difference
when there isn’t any or to attach conflicts to intergenerational explanations when other
variables are more at work. Such variables include personality conflicts, societal pressures,
baggage from family, and the inequality of access to resources, energy or positional power.
Further differences derive from class, gender and position in the life cycle. They all play a
role.
Members of the cooperative differed in their perceptions of the significance of
intergenerational issues as a shaper of current conflicts. Usually targeted, as a cause are lack of
effective communication, an inability to talk directly with the person they are in conflict with,
and an ‘an unwillingness to see the others point of view’. However, conflicts between
generations also derive from different positions in the life cycle as well as their position in the
history of society and the community. Some examples are, that comfort needs and
pragmatism tend to increase with age, whereas the younger members seem more prepared to
live with disorder, uncertainty and often seek to flex their energy. The energy of youth and
the experience of age are complementary but often at loggerheads.
Differences exist in the relative focus on and perspectives of the past, present and the future.
Older, newer members have difficulty adapting their past to the opportunities of the present
whereas younger, newer members challenge is adapting their visions of the future to the
realities of the present. An illustration of different focus around time is an older semi retired
couple, who have applied to join are struggling with selling a house they have lived in for
forty years. Whereas one young new couple are busy struggling with every aspect of the
existing structures and processes of the co-operative. One other new and young member
expressed the view as “you can’t live off past efforts. You are only as good as today’s
performance’. From my perspective as an original participant this has generated resentment
that the past achievements and lessons are ignored and not treated with respect’. One other
long standing members written reply to this paper expressed that “we don’t take into account
the 'special nature' of Moora Moora and therefore we don't consider what are the most
appropriate ways to participate in this special community... The journey constitutes our real
experience rather than the ideal represented by our destination... The journey and the
destination are inseparable. Living in deep community is a pilgrimage, not a holiday. This
means that the way we pursue or resist change is as important to the sustainability of Moora
Moora, as the nature of the changes we try to implement. ..I fear that as our way of selecting
members has become broader, easier and focused on how easy they are to live with, we are
opening our membership to people who have no interest in the challenges and pleasures of life
in an intentional community, rather than in a shallow community.”
History seems to begin only at the point of arrival in the community. Maybe older new
members have a greater attunement to history even if it isn’t theirs. Then however, older
members resist reviewing and adapting to changing priorities and ways of seeing things by its
new membership. These differences more easily lead to misunderstanding when physical
separation of generations is structured into community life, such as when housing groups are
age stratified.
Conflict can be a tremendous energy for creativity and innovation or alternatively risks
division and smouldering and finally, often explosive “war”. As one member said “diversity
provides the resources for a melting pot that generates positive growth in the community”. If
issues and grievances are not effectively resolved they can easily be picked up and played out
by the next generation. For those with a young listening ear, it is easy to ‘piss in poison from
history’.
Moora Moora employed an outside facilitator to work with conflict resolution. His approach
was to have a ‘go around the cooperative in a circle’ to see how members and groups saw
present conflicts. The experience of Moora Moora has been that even when a mediator is
engaged, it is difficult to resolve conflict once it has exploded. This is especially so if others
have stoked the fires by supporting one side or the other, rather than helping to deal directly
with an issue by being supportive of both and the need to resolve it. Here lies the shared
interest. When small groups of like-minded generations meet informally, their commonality of
viewpoints is almost inevitably reinforced. In order for that not to result in the creation of a
divide, communication across the differences is as important as between mutual supporters.
What happens when a significant conflict is unresolved, members eventually leave and the
community has to rebuild. The community is robust, but rebuilding is a process that takes a
lot of time and energy, and friends become casualties. We can only rebuild so many times.
All generations tend to get attached to positions and lose site of common interests, and values.
It is a struggle to keep change and stability in each member's mind as a constructive part of
community living. One member in his late 30s commented that “an impasse is created when
the old generation won’t let go until it is shown that any changes are an improvement and the
next says we won’t do anything until you let go”.
He continued, “some new members need to stop trying to rewrite the spokes of the wheel and
work on how we can advance the wheel- one generation gets to a certain point and then it is
the task of the next to bring the community forward to the next stage. Such as, some goals we
are all working for, some teeth for unacceptable behaviour”.
Another young person expressed concern for “the need to walk the talk. My generation
wants vision to be real, especially in terms of environmental sustainability and self
responsibility in the group”.
I remember a passionate conversation with one of our new members that was deeply critical
of the cooperative owning beef cattle. I said “that the challenge we face, if we are to be in
partnership, is for you to listen to the past and for me to be open to the future”. The new,
young members struggle to be open to older ones and their wisdom from the past. The older I
become the more difficult I find it to remain open to change and to trust that there are other
ways of doing things, that while different can still be in the community interest. After so long
it is a challenge to open space for each to make their own contribution rather than be defensive
of past achievements or taken for granted community cultural practices.
Meeting the challenge of intergenerational sustainability is also about processes and what
attitude members bring to decision making. Ideally members allow for continual reinventing
the wheel and creative spaces for moving it forward, let go of attachment to being right others
wrong, start with self- responsibility as well as consider the big picture. Members ideally ask
themselves how to be inclusive before defining limits, accepting decisions, choose issues that
count and can distinguish conflict over different paths to shared ends. For example, members
focusing on keeping the land productive and cared for rather than which particular crops or
animals are farmed.
A middle aged member view is that if ‘my generation fails to be able to transfer some lessons
of living in community then it is a wasted generation and yet we have to assume that what is
carried forward is but a small incremental addition to human history’. An old member
reflecting on being interviewed by one of the communities teenagers for a school project
regretted now that he didn’t bother to find out about his grand mothers life which began a
century and a half ago at the time of the Irish potato famine.
Conclusion
We live in an increasingly age layered society where intergenerational connections are largely
limited to parent and child. This begins in school and continues. When children are not present
it is more difficult to establish adult to adult connections that cross generations, which makes
more difficult the task of intergenerational transfer of wisdom. We have largely lost our
heritage of eldership which is difficult to rebuild in ways that work within a democratic
culture. Metcalf ‘s (1995) book attempts to do this by giving voice to members from
communities that have existed for at least 10 years. Intergenerational connections are often
limited to those generations on either side of ones own-we tend to remember where we have
recently been and are watchful of where we are going. Countries, such as Australia, with a
high migrant population have trouble knowing the contribution of those who are a mere
generation away, let alone being able to honor their ancestors and the spirit of all who have
gone before them.
Many communities established in the 1970s are now facing intergenerational change. They
seek a next generation before the gap between them is too great, before every one is in their
old age. It is too late at death’s door to advertise for your replacement. Communities need to
be watchful of their age structure and keep it as varied as possible. It is probably inevitable
that there will be peaks and troughs of interest. The likelihood of intergenerational community
sustainability is shaped by the existence of structures and processes that enable entry and exit
of different generations. This begins with initial decisions such as, about community size and
mission. If established with a diversity of ages it is easier to sustain it, as diversity tends to
attract itself.
Some communities and some members of Moora Moora have not yet addressed the issue of
intergenerational sustainability. Those in Australia who have addressed the issue used a
variety of legal, financial, social and cultural strategies. Some communities have restructured
land ownership towards more private ownership to allow easier sale or borrowing from
outside moneylenders. Others have just clarified and documented land ownership and its
transfer in a more equitable manner between leaving and joining members. Some are importing
paid labor to do more of the work or have become dependent on volunteers. Some members
simply feel they have to leave, as the community hasn’t planned for their old age inclusion.
Some communities have restructured and made their taken for granted culture explicit, so that
it is accessible to potential members, in particular the rights and obligations of members. To
attract a new generation both parties need to work at seeing issues from a range of
perspectives. If pathways towards intergenerational sustainability are to be found it isn’t so
much the responses that matter but asking the questions and facing the challenges involved.
Rebuilding intergenerational connections involves seeing beyond a simple lineal sense of life’s
progress through different, stimulating and often conflicting stages. It involves becoming
attuned to what is common to life in community irrespective of our particular life stage. We
need to have a place, be recognized, valued, understood, and loved. Experiencing community is
the stuff of life. Regenerating experiences of multi generation communities is one of the key
challenges if we are to relearn how to live with each other across generations and within the
bounty of the earth.
References
Cock, P. H. (1979) Alternative Australia: communities for the future? Melbourne. Quartet
Press.
Dearling, A. & Hanley, B (2000) Alternative Australia: celebrating cultural diversity. Dorset.
An Enabler publication.
Kantor, R.M (1972) Community and Commitment, Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University
Press.
Metcalf, B (1995) From Utopian Dreaming to Communal Reality. Sydney, University of
New South Wales press
Southwick, C. (1996) Global ecology in Human perspective. London . Oxford University
press.
Sheldrake, R & Fox, M (1997) Natural grace, Dialogues on Science and Spirituality. London,
Bloomsbury.
Response to “The Family: A Free-Love Christian Commune” by
Geraldo (Barney) Lourenco
Abi Freeman
Is “free love” a contradiction in terms? Free denotes without cost or limitation, but
love has many costs, many responsibilities. To love is to give. To love is to help. To love is
to put yourself in the place of another and think about what they need. To love is not to
harm. More than that, love is to go out of your way to prevent harm. Love is to bring joy
where there is sadness; comfort where there is loneliness; hope where there is despair. Love is
to provide companionship. Love is to help provide the needs of another, whatever those
needs may be.
When “free love” is used in connection with sexual relationships, then we go even
further away from the term “free”. Love has responsibilities. If you enter into a sexual
relationship with someone, we believe that you have a responsibility for your partner(s), both
physically and emotionally. Every relationship, no matter how short or how long, has an
impact on our lives.
We are Christians. We base our lives on the commandments that Jesus gave, “Love
God, love your neighbour as yourself.” We do believe that sexual relations between consenting
adults are permissible, however, these relations are only permissible within our communities
if they are carried out in accordance with the principle of “love your neighbour”. If a
relationship would harm either of the parties, or anyone else directly involved such as their
regular partner, husband or wife, then such a relationship is not “according to love” and we do
not approve of it. “Consenting” means willing consent: pressure or coercion to enter into a
sexual relationship is not permitted.
Young people growing up in the movement, living in our full-time communities, are
aware of our beliefs but are also aware of the strict guidelines in our governing Charter that
forbid any type of sexual abuse, of children or others, or of any manner of coercion. Strict age
limits regarding sexual activity prevent older adults taking advantage of younger, more
impressionable women.
We consider young people of 16 and over to be old enough to start having sexual
relationships amongst their peers, if they choose, although if they are under 18 their parents
are expected to help advise them in making mature decisions. One of the main things we try to
teach our youth regarding sexual activity is a sense of responsibility. Should pregnancy result,
the partners are expected to marry or at least take what we call “minimum responsibility” to
stay together. This is meant to ensure the care of the mother and baby for the first year of his
or her life. Realising that this could be the result of their sexual liaisons, most young people
are unwilling to risk a premature marriage or relationship with someone they are not that
attached to, and protect themselves from pregnancy by refraining from intercourse or using
some sort of birth control. This is permitted. (Abortion is not.)
Parents of teenagers and young people who choose to leave the Family are expected to
help them make the transition into mainstream society and to maintain a loving relationship.
They are our children whom we love and care about, no matter what decisions they make in
life. We recognise that our communal missionary lifestyle is not for all, and we estimate that
around two-thirds of those born and raised in our communities eventually leave.
Overall spiritual leadership of The Family rests with Maria, the wife of our deceased
founder David Berg, and her husband Peter. Each community is self-governing. There are no
gender differences in our communities as far as leadership, spiritual or otherwise, or decisionmaking. Gender simply does not enter into that equation. Family members from around the
world participate in discussions about policies that affect the Family worldwide.
We are happy to provide more information on our movement and even arrange visits,
where possible, although most of our 1400 communities worldwide are quite small, ranging
from 6 to 26 members.
You can visit The Family online at: www.thefamily.org/thefamily
You can contact us at: [email protected]
Or write to us at:
Family Information Department
Maxet House, Liverpool Road, Luton LU11RS
ENGLAND
1.6 Communal Education
Young Adults on their Way to the Future:
Kibbutz, Studies and Profession
Arza Avrahami
Changes in the employment structure within the kibbutz and looking for sources of income
outside the kibbutz framework has made people realize the importance of higher education.
Over the last few years young people tend to maintain contact with their kibbutz
communities without committing themselves to the kibbutz while putting off future decisions.
An important stage in this period of most of them is a post-secondary school study period.
These changes took place at the same time that the Israeli higher education system was itself
in a process of offering a larger variety of learning possibilities.
I shell present the pattern of study preferences of the kibbutz-born in comparison to their
non-kibbutz counterparts, and ask what part the kibbutz plays in the personal decisions and
the effect of the social environment on the study preference.
342 kibbutz students and 1700 other students (represent higher education institutions in
Israel) took part in the research.
Most kibbutz children turn to higher education, and many of them, more than the general
population, work towards a degree. They differ from the non-students in the proportion of
them who matriculate, in higher matriculation grades and they are older. It appears that some
of those not studying when the research was carried out, especially the younger ones, may do
so in the next few years. However, there is a small group that for personal reasons, or other
difficulties, will not go on to study even though the kibbutz makes it possible.
The education years, a life stage for kibbutz youngsters, and their choice of a course of study,
is influenced both by personal background and the general environment. The youth stage the
kibbutzim have created makes it possible to postpone the decision whether to stay in the
kibbutz or leave it. In their 20s, most of its youngsters retain their ties with the kibbutz, and
many live there. With that, staying there at this period or even defining themselves as
members, does not indicate a commitment to the kibbutz, and certainly not an intention to
remain there. The real, important factors that influence young people focus around the needs
and wishes of the individual, not a sense of commitment or ideology (Kadosh, 1998). The
desire to remain in the kibbutz appears to grow stronger when its youngsters feel they can
realize their personal expectations there (Lieberman & Avrahami, 1991; Avrahami, 1993).
Their studies, and especially professional fulfillment are important in planning the future in
the kibbutz or outside it. Though choosing a course of study is an individual decision and
considerations are in the main personal, the influence of the social environment in which
decisions are taken is not to be ignored.
Postponement of the decision to stay or to leave involves both practical considerations and a
sense of belonging (Avrahami, 1997; Kadosh, 1998). Many young people keep the options
open and declare a sense of obligation, one that has its elements of identification and solidarity
with kibbutz social values, but does not assure that the individual concerned will remain there.
At the same time, ongoing contact with the kibbutz seems to allow for a dialogue, whether
open or hidden, with its youngsters, one that affects their considerations in choosing a course
of study and a profession, and in the general planning of their personal future. In these
circumstances, the kibbutz is one of several options. The better the kibbutz communicates
with its youngsters, introducing varied employment and social opportunities, with an agreed
system of values, into the area of where choices are made, the more attractive the kibbutz will
be (Avrahami, 1998; Kadosh, 1998).
Postponed studies: the contribution to crystallization of professional identity
Financial pressures, “lowered walls” between the kibbutz and its surroundings, and the
resemblance of kibbutz children to their peers outside it, have contributed to changes in
developing a professional direction. Earlier studies (Gutman & Levi, 1974; Seginer, 1988;
Meisels, Gal & Fishoff, 1989; Shlesinger, 1992) disclosed that kibbutz children are less clear
that their peers outside as to planing their future, though in the 1990s that gap narrowed. The
present study indicates that kibbutz children plan their future in much the same way as the
others do. True, in the first stages, in school, in the army and even two years after discharge,
they are less clear about professional direction. However, having decided on a course of study,
the clarity of their decision resembles that of the outside group, and by the time studies
actually begin, the kibbutz group is even clearer in this regard.
Although during their studies more kibbutz children mentioned their choice of profession,
19% were still not specific about it, and 12% made a choice unconnected with their field of
study. Theories regarding occupational choice contain the assumption that developing a
professional identity is linked to and concurrent with choosing a course of study, continuing
over a period of time. Occupational choice is a long process that occurs while one is studying,
and continues afterwards (Ginzburg, 1972; Super, 1980). Students have non-occupational
motives too, which may be explorative, social or a desire to realize inclinations (Avrahami,
1997).
Kibbutz children begin their studies three years later, on an average, than do their non-kibbutz
peers. But they have more work experience and more encounters with other societies and
cultures through their travels abroad, to which some add also voluntary communal activities.
While all these postpone the decision to study, they may help develop an academic and
occupational direction that contributes to stability during time of studying (Avrahami, 1997),
while processing events from the past.
Preferred courses, the scope of choice
Most kibbutz children opt for academic studies, but the percentage of university students is
lower than among the general population. The proportion in the academic colleges, however,
is higher (Table 1).
In choosing fields of study, differences were found between kibbutz children and their nonkibbutz peers, and between those who defined themselves as kibbutz members and those with
other affiliations to the kibbutz. Kibbutz children and members in particular tend to choose
more applied professions, the life sciences and social service occupations, and less the exact
sciences and the humanities (Table 2). Among women the tendency is particularly marked.
The range of academic and occupational choices is somewhat narrower than in the general
population. Several explanations may be offered for these patterns:
A. First and foremost is the educational and social background of the kibbutz. The non
selective kibbutz school allows more students to matriculate and to turn to further education,
including academic education. Although scholastic achievement has been stressed in recent
years, the schools still esteem, some more, some less, the social and values education that was
the focus of the traditional beit hinuch (school home) (Avrahami & Getz, 1994). Because of
the school atmosphere that does not emphasize high grades, some students matriculate with
rather low ones, and relatively fewer than in the general sample followed the expanded
curriculum in science subjects. The educational environment and kibbutz school structure in
the mid 1980s did not prepare students for the competition in certain fields in higher
education, and insufficient preparation in science at school limited their chances of acceptance
in these fields and in some other prestigious university departments.52 Although the average in
psychometric tests is the same as in the general sample, the average of the combined score as
determined by the university is decisive for acceptance in some areas, and this is lower for
kibbutz children (P=.001). Hence about half the kibbutz children apply to academic and
technical colleges, where entrance requirements are less stringent. Those applying to the
university have higher matriculation grades, and parents with a higher level of education.
While those in the academic technical colleges have similar psychometric scores, they differ in
these two variables. The fact that most kibbutzim are in outlying areas, and many students
want to live there, increases the proportion of kibbutz students in the colleges.
B. The unclear economic and social situation in the kibbutzim with its social instability,
reinforces short-term considerations when making decisions. Most kibbutzim are not
sufficiently aware of, nor have they internalized adequately, the behavior that the changed
occupational structure requires, and there is no long-term investment in human resources. The
system itself, and to an extent parents too, stress the acquisition of a practical profession
without lengthy training, so as to earn a high a salary as possible, as soon as possible. 82% of
the kibbutzim pay their youngsters university tuition, but only for three to four years
(Naaman & Levenbach, 2000). The kibbutz transition to differential salary sends the message
of the need to earn a high salary. The vocational and the academic college, perceived as
prestigious and stressing practical studies, meet this need. Courses that require further years
of study, or fields where the first degree is inadequate for entry level employment, create a
dilemma for young people when they choose courses and decide whether to remain in the
kibbutz. In choosing a profession as well, college students tend to opt for professions that do
not require university or continuing study. While many express the desire to go on studying,
they lack the assurance that they will be able to continue directly from the first to the second
university degree. Data indicates that a greater proportion of science students at the
university wish to continue, while more vocational college students are undecided about
further studies.
It appears that young people who are unsure whether they can manage prolonged studies,
whether because of the kibbutz economic situation or because they are thinking of leaving, go
in for vocational education that combine a bachelor’s degree with professional qualification.
This choice is like that of students of low socioeconomic status who have great learning
ability, who generally elect prestigious practical studies for the sake of speedy social
mobility. By contrast, youngsters of society’s higher strata can choose more theoretical fields,
postponing the choice of a profession, or they may enter the labor market with the help of
their families’ social capital (Davies & Guppy, 1997). In the past, kibbutz children tended to
follow their inclinations in choosing their studies, assured of the future of the kibbutz and
their own ability to acquire a profession later on, using kibbutz social capital. The erosion of
kibbutz social status and changes in Israel’s employment structure, now influence their
choice, making it similar to that of competent students of low socioeconomic status.
52 The subjects in this research completed their schooling from 7 to 12 years ago. Possibly changes in the
kibbutz school over the years, and shortening the moratorium period will alter the situation.
C. Bourdieu & Passeron (1977) maintain that the components of social capital are in the main
transmitted through the family, not through the formal education system. The ability of
family and community to transmit academic expectations and social motivation to their
children is a diffuse and hidden process, but nonetheless highly influential. Although the
kibbutz students at the time we made this study had been exposed to the broader society, in
the course of their schooling (completed in the 1980s) they acquired from their families and
community unclear social values, and a vague attitude to the kibbutz. Kibbutz norms had
weakened, and those of the larger society were not acquired. The social and cultural capital the
kibbutz gave its young people in the past has diminished, and their background does not
facilitate admittance to prestigious and scientific fields despite their scholastic ability.
D. Exposure of young people to information about the work world is most important in
planning a profession (Flom, 1995). Seeking out such information may also influence academic
and professional choices (Hurtado et al., 1997). In an ever changing work world, the work
force is more and more engaged in service occupations, in computers, the information industry
and information management. In 1990, 70% of the American work force was employed in
service occupations (Meshulam, 1997). Despite the changes in the kibbutz occupational
structure, and its increasing openness to work outside the kibbutz, a large proportion of the
members still work at traditional occupations, the minority in agriculture and more of them in
industry that is still of the traditional type (plastics, metals, food processing).53 Kibbutz
children who are now students were not exposed in adolescence to a wide range of service,
scientific and free professions. There is a link between social capital acquired, parents’
professions, and communal norms and attitudes on one hand, and study choices on the other.
The kibbutz environment limited the encounter of its young people with varied professional
possibilities for the future. Although fields of study are broader than they were (Zamir,
1997), their patterns of choice, influenced by their environment, are still different from those
of their peers. As one of them said:
“The most serious impression I got is that there’s hardly any need for people with a
degree... They might be pleased if there was a dentist or a lawyer, but one with experience,
not one who just finished studying… an engineering technician or a mechanical engineer, that’s
not my field either... Maybe if someone with a first degree in computers turned up, it would
be what everyone says we need, but we really don’t, because there’s no use for a degree like
that... It’s the kind of contradiction [there is] in the kibbutz message system. Everybody
knows farming today is not a profession, and on the other hand I don’t think there’s any
work place that requires any education beyond something basic...” (Avrahami, 1997)
Finally, there may be a small bias in the data, from the high proportion of kibbutz children
who go into higher education compared with the general population. If we take the population
that is comparable with the kibbutz, the gap narrows. The bias may reduce difference slightly,
but is not responsible for them, because comparisons in choosing courses of study were made
within the population in post secondary education, not with the general population.
It seems that the long moratorium period and social experience outside the kibbutz help to
develop clearer decision and leading to greater congruence between studies and professional
53 In 1998, 40% of the kibbutz population worked in farming and industry (quarrying and manufacturing) as
against 21% in the general population, with 15% in transportation, communication, insurance, business service
and public administration, by contrast with 27% in the general population. Kibbutz occupations are similar, but
there is still a small gap. In 1997 9% of the kibbutz population were in academic and scientific occupations, by
contrast with 15% in the general population. (Fovin, 2000). A comparison of the kibbutz with equivalent
population sectors reveals an even larger gap.
choice. But choosing a course of study and a profession is influenced by personal resources
and by the young person’s social culture (Brennan, 1993; Bourdieu, 1977). Despite changes in
the kibbutz, the “lowered walls and closer contacts with its surroundings, the kibbutz still has
a different attitude to higher education and the occupational structure than the accepted one in
society as a whole. That attitude prevails in the kibbutz’s institution and among some
members. Most kibbutzim limit the years of study approved for their youngsters. Possibly
some leave the kibbutz earlier, knowing of this limitation, so they can work to finance further
studies. Those young people who have left the kibbutz are not included in the research
sample.
The trend in choosing courses of study may interfere with professional and personal
development. In their research on the link between higher education and employment,
Brennan et al. (1993) state that university students enjoy marked preference when they enter
the labor market. They obtain work more easily, their pay is higher, and over the years they
advance more rapidly into management positions. Attending prestigious institutions affects
scholastic achievement and leads to encounters with young people in new social networks
(Davies & Guppy, 1997). In a rapidly changing labor market, one needs professional mobility
or mobility within the profession. This requires a broad education that develops skills more
advantageous than those derived from specific vocational training. One interviewee, who
maintained that he spoke only for himself and did not voice the view of his friends, affirmed
this to some extent:
“When I thought of starting to study, I didn’t know exactly where, why and what ... My
purpose is to obtain a higher education - after that, all options are open. ... I know from my
friends who are starting to study now, that it’s very important for them that what they are
going to study is what they’ll work at in the future. And when they come and ask me, I try
to show them like another side and tell them: Listen, what you said is really important and
it’s all very well, and good and right, but how do I know what’s going to happen in another
ten years, what will interest me and what I’ll want. Or if what you studied will interest you at
all or if it won’t interest you, what are you going to do then? So you have to be more open,
more able to change.” (Avrahami, 1997).
Further on he explains that he is studying to acquire tools and skills for scientific thinking,
along with an education that is broad and less specific. This young man argues with his friends
in favor of general studies that make it possible to choose a specific profession at a later stage.
To concentrate on acquiring a profession so as to start working at once cannot be right for
everyone. Training in broader, additional fields, even if it requires additional investment, is
important for individual development and no less so, for balanced development in the
economic and social structure of the kibbutz. This kind of change requires new thinking about
the school’s role as a guide and a counselor in vocational planning, and about a change in the
occupational structure among kibbutz members, who must internalize the importance of
investment in human capital.
Table 1: Distribution of kibbutz children by educational institutions and gender,
compared with the general population (in percents)
Kibbutz children
General Sample
Population
(CBS)
Total Men Women
Total Men Women
University
45.5
51.7
41.5
50.5 48.6 51.2
49.1
Teacher training college
14.3
5. 8
18.7
12.6
12.1
General academic college
12.3
12.5
12.2
12.7 14.4 ll.4
Academic vocational college
16.5
21.7
13.3
9.0
Non academic vocational college 11.4
8.3
13.3
15.2 20.6 10.8
N
120
188
737
308
3.9 19.7
15.8 2
12.5 6.1
23.0
895 1632
1. CBS data for 1998
2. CBS data do not distinguish between academic and non academic vocational colleges.
Table 2: Students by fields of study and gender, in the kibbutz and the general sample, as
compared with CBS data
Field of study
Men
Women
CBS
Kibbutz Kibbutz
General
Kibbutz General
Liberal arts
6.3
3.4
4.2
4.3
3.1
5.9
Languages and regional studies
3.9
1.6
1.7
1.8
1.5
1.9
The arts
6.1
11.8
7.7
4.3
14.4
6.0
Education
18.9
12.8
4.2
3.4
18.0
19.4
Social sciences
15.5
11.2
6.7
7.3
14.4
19.4
Commerce, management
5.5
13.1
13.4
7.8
12.9
8.9
Law
5.0
1.6
2.5
5.4
1.0
4.3
Maths, computers *
4.6
8.1
17.6
18.9
2.6
10.7
Biological sciences
2.2
7.5
5.9
2.4
7.7
2.5
Engineering, architecture
7.0
13.1
23.5
14.3
6.7
6.5
Engineering technology
15.7
6.9
10.1
12.3
4.7
2.8
Communication
.8
1.2
.8
3.9
1.5
2.5
Medicine
.9
.3
3.6
.5
2.9
Auxiliary medical professions
3.8
6.5
1.9
9.8
3.2
Physics, chemistry
1.2
.6
3.4
1.0
2.1
Non academic administ-ration & clerical work2.6
1.7
5.0
* Mathematics and computers includes students of computer technology.
3.3
Dr. Arza Avrahami, Member of Kibbutz Palmachim, Head of Kibbutz Education Research
Institute, Oranim: School of Education of the Kibbutz Movement, and research fellow at Yad
Tabenkin: Research institute of the kibbutz movement. Research interests: sociology of youth
and sociology of Kibbutz education.
Address at home: Palmachim, D.N. Emeq Soreq, 76980, Israel
Tel: - - 39538210 e-mail: [email protected] Fax. - - 39624798
At work:, Research and Evaluation Unit, Kibbutz Education Research, Oranim, K.Tivone,
36006, Israel
Tel: -- 49838744 e-mail [email protected]
1.7 The Future of the Kibbutz
New Boundaries – New Identity
The Influence of Structural Changes on Communal Societies – The
Case of the Kibbutz
Eli Avrahami
Yad Tabenkin Research Institute, Israel
A. Introduction and Background
Until recently kibbutz members and kibbutz society had a defined, recognized and unique
identity, based on a comprehensive set of values and established institutions. These defined
the boundaries of kibbutz and its collective identity as a social unit, and as a settlement with a
clear geographic position, and the identity of each member. Each kibbutz was a
comprehensive system, a total way of life. Each member was enfolded, as it were, by the
system comprised of the kibbutz and its institutions, which took full responsibility for the
individual and all his or her needs.
The crisis of the 1980s was both structural and related to values, its consequences discernible
in all structures and spheres. It has been described, studied and analyzed in the last decade in a
long series of research projects, some comprehensive and some concerning one aspect of
kibbutz life54 . The main points are already common knowledge for all whom the subject
interests. Briefly and in general, the changes, still in progress, are essentially a transition from
a collectivist, cohesive society with a high level of social and ideological commitment -- an
intentional community -- to an individualistic one in which the bond between members and
their mutual responsibility is growing steadily weaker. Communal principles are being
abandoned, and replaced by norms once considered deviant but now are legitimized. Social
agreements and balances, so very important for solidarity according to Habermas (1991), were
damaged, and the mode of action changed from communicative to strategic, as Habermas (1982
) defines it.
As interpersonal relationships became formalized and social engagement lessened, the
community as a whole, and each of its members, lost their social capital, as defined by
Bourdieu (1986), Coleman (1988) and Putnam (1995).
The boundaries and identity of
each kibbutz are not clear any more: certainly they are difficult to recognize and define.
Members are unsure about their social identity, a situation typical of eras of change and
uncertainty (Giddens, 1991).
B. Identity and boundaries
Social identity and boundaries are interdependent, defining one another. As S. N. Eisenstadt
puts it, “The structuring of collective identity is the social structuring of boundaries, trust and
solidarity” (1998).
B.1. Identity
Individual identity is defined to a considerable extent by the society / group to which s/he
54 A. Avrahami, E. Avrahami, E. Ben Raphael, M. Topel, U. Levitan et al., A. Pavin, D. Rosoglio, S.
Ravid, M. Rosner and S. Getz, to name only a few.
belongs, and is also the result of personal characteristics -- psychological, biological and
economic -- social position and other variables.
“Psychology and sociology are the two disciplines most often associated with the study
of identity. Psychologists tend to think in terms of individuals and inner processes. For
them identity seems to be something that exists within the individual’s personality
through various cognitive processes. - - - In contrast, sociologists tend to think of
individuals in terms of society and its institutions, conceptualising identity as a set of
definitions and roles.- - For social-psychologists, an adequate view of identity runs along a continuum from the
personal to the social. Definitions that involve the entity of the self seem to be most
useful. Without a concept of self, individual behaviour is either simply role-determined
or shaped by some resolution of forces between a given social role and the inheritances
of biology. Self is the concept that eludes mechanistic determinism and is the vehicle for
conceptualising a balance between structural determinacy and individual creativity - - The self connotes two essential parts, the member’s identity, i.e., awareness of
membership, the sense of belonging to a group, while ideology refers to the member’s
world view about the group’s position in society. - - - the self and the social seem to be
linked through centrality of group identity in the self-concept; perceived similarities in the
personal characteristics of group members; and an awareness of a common fate in the
way in which group members are treated in society. [ Italics mine - E.A.].- - - Individuals
may simultaneously identify as consumers, citizens, feminists, workers, and humanrights activists, differing markedly from the previous construct that conceived of the
individual whether as a worker, a black, or a woman.” (Cherny, 2001).
“Individuals, of course, have multiple identities, and usually these are not inconsistent: I
am a Jew, an American, a left-winger, born a German, a professor, a planner, a husband and
father, the son of a philosopher, a gardener. I do not need to choose among these; they are all
part of my identity, even though some may occasionally be in tension with others.” (Italics
mine) (Marcuse, 2000).
“Modern societies do not simply become increasingly differentiated, but change from premodern topological differentiations (i.e. sectors and social strata) to functional differentiations
(with sub-systems like politics, law, economics, science, education, health care, etc.). In the
course of this process, the individual is no longer assigned to a single place, segment or
stratum of society, but rather functionally included within it. This means that the individual
partially belongs to all sub-systems, while being excluded as an integrated individual.
Functionally fragmented, the simultaneous participation of the individual in various subsystems is required and enforced throughout his or her life.” (Fischer-Rosenthal,1996) .
B. 2. Boundaries
The territorial boundaries of a settlement are in general clearly defined, and constitute a
recognized municipal unit. However, in one settlement several communities may exist side by
side or even intermingled, their “boundaries” usually defined by norms and values, the
interests and the common aims of the members, as well as the social network to which they
belong. At least until recently, the kibbutz was a community whose physical and community
boundaries were one and the same. The kibbutz is perceived as a settlement and community
with several subsystems: economic, social, political and the like. Each kibbutz was a
comprehensive sheltering “roof”, in which the various entities and subsystems were not
necessarily in complete congruence, as Israel Shepher points out:
“To be a member of a kibbutz means, then, to be a member of an organization (in principle by
voluntary choice). This organization requires the individual to commit himself to an allembracing, if not total, way of life: to be a member of a clearly defined group; to be a partner
in a collective economic unit; to belong to a corporate group (in the social anthropological
meaning of the notion - -); to reside permanently, in principle, in a certain territorial unit; to
belong to a community” (Shepher, 1980).
The kibbutz member, then, belongs simultaneously to a number of subsystems in his kibbutz,
that situation defining the individual’s identity or multiple identities, most if not all of them
linked to a defined territory. Such was the situation at least before the wave of change.
C. Implications of the changes
What the changes implied for kibbutz members, particularly for the member as an individual,
was examined by means of in-depth interviews with 50 members of 10 different kibbutzim,
selected by criteria of size, social and economic status and the extent of changes undergone.
Interviewees were chosen randomly from the rank and file of the membership, with one
central office holder in each kibbutz included in the group. The semi structured interview was
carried out by means of free conversation, the interviewer posing questions only to bring up a
subject that the interviewee on his own initiative had not raised. Members knew the purpose
of the interview, they spoke freely and openly, and only three persons refused to participate.
All interviews were recorded and transcribed for the purpose of qualitative text analysis.
Topel (1996) discerned three categories of changes - privatization, different management style
and intertwining, the last term known as “lowering the walls”55 in the kibbutz vernacular.
Each category of changes affects the identity and boundaries of the kibbutz as a settlement,
and the identity of the members, and contains an economic-monetary element. Perhaps the
most significant change is the primary and central role of money in the consideration of every
kibbutz community, institution and individual. The rational economic-pragmatic approach has
taken hold in the evolving kibbutz. It changes the kibbutz from an intentional community,
carrying out tasks for the common good with economic considerations in last place, to one
that as a rule takes on tasks to the extent that they are economically profitable. In the
interviews this emerged in statements expressing unwillingness for the kibbutz to be a freier
(the vernacular for a sucker), as it was in the past when it took on assignments for the
common good. Some point out that precisely because it has lost this orientation to national
needs, the kibbutz has lost its relevance for Israeli society. Many interviewees noted the fact,
but few regretted it. The change however adversely affected the pioneer quality that was a
central element in the identity of the kibbutz as a whole, and of individual members, as noted
by several of those interviewed.
Blurring the pioneer element in their identity, then, deprived the kibbutz itself, and each
member, of at least part of their social capital. This has implications for the general public’s
regard for the kibbutz (Smith, 1996).
The new order of priorities affects not only relations with the society outside the kibbutz, but
among its own members. Following Habermas’s terminology, society functioned in the past
through “communicative action”, which today has given way to the “strategic action”.
Communicative actions are done for mutual benefit, free of money and power constraints,
55 The term is somewhat misleading: the kibbutz never isolated itself behind an impenetrable wall. Ziegfried
Landshut, the first sociologist to study kibbutz, noted in the 1940s the osmosis between the kibbutz and its
surroundings.
without egocentric considerations of personal success. By contrast, strategic activities are
carried out of rational and efficiency considerations, to obtain material results (Habermas,
1989).
Undermined mutual trust and the weakening of engagement damaged social capital because
“Trust and engagement are two facets of the same underlying factor -- social capital” (Putnam,
1995).
We now proceed to examine briefly each category of change, as perceived by kibbutz
members.
C. 1. Intertwining
Because of the social and political tasks the kibbutz undertook on behalf of society as a
whole, it was not separated from that society. On the other hand, it adopted a policy of
exclusion to the point where outside authorities, national or other, were rarely called on to
intervene in what went on inside kibbutz “walls”, while the kibbutz itself waived rights to
services to which every citizen was entitled. In the past exclusion also functioned as a
mechanism defining the identity of kibbutz.
Intertwining has many facets. Employment structure changed as members went to work
outside the kibbutz and many outsiders were hired to work inside it. The kibbutz education
system opened to outside children. Apartments were rented to non-members, and tourism and
other services were offered to the general public. Kibbutz members, on their part, purchase
services such as entertainment in communities in their region, their considerations economic as
a rule. To this one must add the establishment of regional schools attended by kibbutz
children as well as children of the region. All this led to broader social contacts with nonkibbutz members on a greater scale than in the past, whether at work, in recreation, in
parents’ groups or elsewhere. To this, add family ties that always crossed community /
kibbutz boundaries. The new social networks help blur the boundaries between the kibbutz
and the outside community. The ultimate is the construction of neighborhoods within the
municipal jurisdiction of the kibbutz for outsiders who are neither kibbutz members nor part
of the cooperative community. Thus congruence between the community and the settlement,
a key component of the kibbutz identity, gradually disappears.
In the interviews, some kibbutz members expressed a sense of estrangement within their own
kibbutz because of all the new faces. They were concerned about negative elements entering
the kibbutz grounds, which many still consider as part of their home. Others, by contrast,
noted the positive aspects of increased income from services sold to outsiders, of increasing
the local population, particularly the younger population after so many young people left
during the crisis. They also noted the benefits to the educational institutions, which had
shrunk due to an exodus from the kibbutz and the falling birth rate (the demographic crisis).
The increasing number of kibbutz members working outside the autonomous kibbutz
economy means that for a growing number of members the local community has become less
important, while their work place with its different values has become more so. The process,
familiar in modern social systems (Kanter & Pittinsky, 1995-1996) has now reached the
kibbutz.
There is also a changing perception of “home,” once thought of as the entire kibbutz, and
which now tends to relate only to one’s private apartment. Some members stated explicitly
that they regarded only that as home, not the kibbutz as a whole. Indeed, lowering the walls
between the kibbutz and its environs has gone together with raising walls within the kibbutz:
each family for itself.
Intertwining has led to a new situation vis-à-vis the Other -- the society outside -- in relation
to which collective and individual identity develops. With the Other no longer so distinct and
separate, the unique kibbutz identity has become blurred. (Calhoun (1994) and Cherny (2000)
are among the researchers who note the importance of the Other in development of an
individual or group identity).
C. 2. Management
Management changes such as boards of directors, “profit centers” and hierarchy within
groups of workers has led to a sense of estrangement. Some interviewees said they felt the
kibbutz was no longer theirs, that they were like hired hands in their own kibbutz they had
built up, and that the new managers did not listen to ordinary workers (see also Topel on the
Technocrats, 2000). Even more sharply, it was said that these same ordinary workers were
“the vassals of the managers”. Others, mainly among the central office holders, stressed the
positive aspects of a system that made the kibbutz member responsible for earning his own
living, the efficiency of the new administrative methods and the reduction of the “free rider”
phenomenon.
Separating the economy from the community reinforced subsystems like production branches
and plants, with new boundaries around such independent “territories”. These develop
outside connections, in competition with their relationships to subsystems within the kibbutz
and sometimes above them. Borders that once overlapped within the comprehensive kibbutz
system are now breached by the new “territories”. Because of these subsystems, members of
the same community develop different identities. Multiple identities lead to tension (Castells,
1997) and create dilemmas where conflicting identities may confront a member with
conflicting loyalties, or at least oblige him / her to grade those identities within a hierarchy.
Within the management category lie all the changes that have replaced direct participatory
democracy with democracy in a representative form, establishing boards or councils in place
of the general assembly. In many kibbutzim the weekly assembly has long ceased to meet, and
while it remains the supreme authority, its scope is limited by procedures that make it very
difficult for the individual member to initiate discussions. Although privatization has largely
freed the individual as a consumer from dependence on institutional functionaries, the new
type of management often leaves him helpless in the face of social and economic-industrial
managers, as s/he is no longer able to appeal to the community as a whole. Some interviewees
expressed a sense of incapacity and helplessness in the new situation.
C. 3. Privatization
The feeling of estrangement and even of alienation so often expressed relates to privatization
too -- which has meant giving members responsibility for most funds for their own
maintenance, culture and amenities. Interviewees stress that in doing so the kibbutz divested
itself of commitment to individual well-being, and indeed had reduced mutual obligation to a
minimum. Others, however, point to positive aspects of broadening individual responsibility
for budgets and activities, freeing members from being dependant on kibbutz institutions. The
individual member is the master of his fate or at least controls most areas of his consumption
and expense budget due to privatization. Differential rewards too, at different levels, for extra
work or demanding tasks contributes to the sense of controlling one’s life. Individuals thus
determine not only their expenses but also their income, to the extent of their willingness to
work more, or harder.
The system of differential rewards, in effect doing away with mutual responsibility, harms
weaker populations for the most part, including senior members. Hence many kibbutzim have
developed a system of mutual help for those who lack the strength to cope with the new
reality. In effect it is not mutual but one-sided, very like charity that assures a minimum living
standard. The kibbutz vernacular terms it “safety net”. Such systems exist in society as a
whole, financed by the state or by charitable organizations, and have blurred the once
distinctive collective trait in the kibbutz member’s identity and in that of the kibbutz as a
whole. Thus both come to resemble the non-collective society, the kibbutz itself approaches
the model of the “community settlement”, without precisely defining its characteristics. The
view that research subjects expressed about the “safety net” ranged from an expression of
social solidarity, through a moral duty to founders and seniors, to a feeling of discomfort in
some of those in need of it. The statement that “The safety net is like welfare arrangements
made for the needy by the state and by charities”, elicited interesting responses. Some
interviewees were insulted by the comparison, asserting that “In the kibbutz it’s different,”
since the kibbutz member contributes part of his income of his own free will to the safety net
fund.
D. Additional implications
D. 1. Localism
The interviews disclosed strong expressions of localism, an affinity for the geographical
location, though not to the kibbutz that is more than a domicile. There were powerful
expressions of belonging to a place and a scene, with commitments to continue to live there,
despite any changes in social, organizational or other frameworks. Expressions of local
attachment sometimes went beyond the specific settlement to include a broad geographical
region. Contrary to expectations, however, the interviews presented no proofs of regionalism
-- a conscious, significant regional identity, or at least none that would replace the now blurred
identity of the kibbutz. Possibly this stems from the past, when the kibbutz member’s
relevant “region” was sectorial and not geographical: the entire movement and not the physical
region. Thus one may anticipate that as the status and importance of the movement for the
kibbutz member diminishes, the region will become more relevant, both for individual
members and for their kibbutz institutions, as attested by some office holders, though not by
the ordinary kibbutz members.
Strong expressions of attachment to place contrast sharply with distancing from commitment
to the kibbutz as a way of life and an ideology, to the point of negation and alienation.
Attachment to place, along with the desire to shake off what is perceived as “bonds the
kibbutz uses to tie up its members” may possibly be explained by the statement made by
Tuan Yi-fu: “Place is security, space is freedom” (1997). Attachment to place of residence
brings security, and cutting the link to the kibbutz idea with its restrictive way of life means
moving out into the open, which is freedom.
D. 2. Alienation
Expressions of helplessness and a sense of meaninglessness that give voice to alienation in a
society that within itself was to have done away with alienation, necessarily raise questions.
The answer, emerging from interview responses, enables us to divide the alienated, or those at
least discontented, into three groups as to the source of their discontent:
1. Involved, active members who care about their community though not necessarily about
the kibbutz, and actively work for changes. However, when these are opposed and not
accepted by the kibbutz, the same members express discontent and even alienation;
2. Members who oppose changes, whether out of considerations of personal advantage or
because of a conservative kibbutz attitude, express discontent and alienation when farreaching changes are introduced;
3. Adherents to the kibbutz idea who hope that changes and adaptations will assure the
future of their community as a kibbutz, even a different, “up-dated” one, and despair of
this in either when changes have led to dismantling basic kibbutz principles, or when
initiatives for change and adaptation are thwarted by opposition that freezes the current
situation. The fate if the kibbutz is then sealed, according to this group, who become
indifferent and uninvolved.
Members of the frustrated groups are the source of “internal departures”, people who shut
themselves up in their own space and give up on community involvement. A community in
which a significant number of individuals act this way, in their indifference and even
alienation, acquires the characteristics of modern communities in the era of globalization
(Kanter & Pittinsky, ibid.) and thus loses its original unique qualities -- in our case those of
the kibbutz.
D. 3. Anxieties
Kibbutz members now evidence two new kinds of anxiety: one about property rights and the
other about employment security.
The first relates to the trend to allocate the communal properties to each member. The
difficult economic situation and fear lest creditors (the banks) might seek to attach the
property of debtor kibbutzim, led these to seek legal means to register members’ apartments
in their own names. Moreover, some are considering the possibility of replacing the system of
common ownership (including that of economically productive property) by dividing it
among individual members. Those against dissolution of common ownership fear they will
lose their share in their life’s work. By contrast, those for it have no fears that they will be
left destitute, and are concerned only that the property will not be privatized because of
technical and legal obstacles. It is hardly necessary to state that the change in the nature of
property ownership would remove a basic characteristic of the kibbutz identity.
The second fear, insecurity as to employment, accompanies globalization everywhere in the
world, according to Kanter and Pittinsky (ibid.). In the kibbutz, such fear arises from
privatization, which makes the member responsible for earning his/her own living. In the past
there was certainty that work would always be found in the kibbutz, and that it was a kibbutz
responsibility. Those days are gone, hence the fear.
Another kind of employment anxiety arises from what the two researchers define as
employability security. It is most sharply expressed by all interviewees when they speak of
their first and foremost desire regarding their children -- to make sure that they have a
profession.
These anxieties are additional elements in the sense of uncertainty and fear of the future so
common in the kibbutz. The effect of the situation on individual identity requires further
research study, particularly in psychology.
Conclusion:
The social identity of the kibbutz and that of the individual within it are being redefined, with
indications that the new identity will lose much that was unique about the kibbutz and the
individual kibbutznik. There are signs that it will be much like that of “ordinary” communities
in Israel, and that many members will adopt a professional identity, especially where this
brings prestige. Different personal identities – within the individual - that must be placed
within a hierarchy makes it difficult to establish individual status and so leads to tension,
though it is doubtful that this situation is unique to the kibbutz member. The differing
identities of individuals will make it difficult to develop a new collective identity for kibbutz,
or for other communities that will then develop on the site where once there was a kibbutz.
It is most doubtful whether the physical boundaries of such a community, to be defined in
legal and municipal terms, will correspond as they once did with the social boundaries of the
communities in the same geographical area. The old identities and boundaries are crumbling -and there are still no new identities, no new boundaries.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
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Theory for the Sociology of Education, Greenwood, pp. 241-258.
Calhoun, C. (ed) (1994), Social Theory and the Politics of Identity, Blackwell.
Castells, M. (1997), The Power of Identity, Blackwell.
Cherni, J. (2001), “Social-Local Identities”, in T. O’Riordan (ed.), Globalism, Localism &
Identity, Earthscan .
Coleman, J.S. (1988), “Social Capital in the Creation of Humane Capital”, American Journal
of Sociology, V.94 (Supplement), pp. 95-120.
Eisenstadt, S.N. (1998), “The construction of Collective Identity”, Israeli Sociology, V.A, #1,
pp. 13-37 (Hib.)
Fischer-Rosental, W. (1996), “The Problem With Identity”, in Y. Kashti (et.al. eds.), A Quest
for Identity, Tel Aviv Un. pp. 9-20.
Giddens, A. (1991), Modernity and Self-Identity – Self and Society in the Late Modern age,
Stanford Un. Press.
Habermas, J. (1982), “Reply to my Critics” in J. Tompson & D.Held (eds.), Habermas:
Critical Debates, Cambridge, pp. 219- 283.
- (1989), The Theory of Communicative Action, Becon Press.
Putnam, R. D. (1995), “Bowling Alone: America’s Declining Social Capital”, Journal of
Democracy, V.6, 1, pp. 65-78.
Marcuse, P. (2000), “Identity, Territoriality and Power”, Hagar, In’t Social science Review,
V.1, #1, pp.128-143.
Kanter, R.M. & T. L. Pittinsky, (1995-1996), “Globalization: New World for Social Inquiry”,
Berkeley Journal of Sociology, #40,pp. 1-20.
Shepher, I. (1980), “Social Boundaries of the Kibbutz”, in E. Marx (ed.), A Composite
Portrait of Israel, Academic Press, pp. 137-177.
Smith, R. (1996), Attitudes of the Israeli Public Towards the Kibbutzim, Smith Institute
(Heb.).
Topel, M. (1996), Tendencies of Change in Kibbutzim, Yad Tabenkin (Heb.).
- (2000), Technocrats, Ph.D. dissertation, Tel Aviv Un. (Heb.).
Yi-Fu Tuan (1997), Space and Place, Un. of Minnesota Press.
Eli Avrahami is a member of kibbutz Palmachim and a research fellow at Yad Tabenkin, the
research institute of the kibbutz movement. He is the editor of the “Kibbutz Lexicon”
(Hebrew) and co-editor of the journal for social issues “Mifne” (Heb.). Recently published
“The Changing Kibbutz – An Examination of Values and Structure” (Yad Tabenkin, 2000),
and several articles on Israeli society, politics, kibbutz .
1.8 The Future of Community
Changing Our Vision of Nature
On the Threshold of a New Millennium
Nathan Batalion
The main insights for this paper, while enhanced by research, first grew out of moving
personal life experiences. They altered how I see the world and thus created an on-going
interest in how our collective society sees the world at large or evolves its vision of nature.
Since I had these experiences, it has taken me over three decades to digest their meaning. What
I learned of highest value is that our contemporary world, despite its plethora of genius, sees
nature through the filter of a mechanistic mathematical perspective that does not encompass
the deeper nature of nature. As a result we self-create many of the environmental crises we
face.
Now what affects nature also impacts human nature. This paper therefore focuses more on
the human and social rather than ecological, scientific or philosophical aspects of this issue.
We will explore how social or community life can transform in tandem with a change in the
root vision of nature.
A possible hint of this kind of a potential link is given when political ideologies mold outer
community structures. We see an example of this with communist collectives as a by-product
of Marxist philosophies behind the Iron Curtain. One can argue that capitalism fosters its
specific structures and more in line with a competitive economic orientation. The latter
includes, in the transition from an agrarian to a capitalist framework, the dramatic
disappearance of extended families, tribes, and older community structures in the West. One
reason is that larger families are not as mobile and adaptable in capitalism's highly competitive
economic milieu. But a deeper reason involves again our root vision of nature.
The first thesis of this paper is thus that a root vision of nature does form a "context of
relevance" to a culture's social structures.
At first, this is not at all apparent. The dominant view of nature is supposed to be a view of
nature not society. But I believe it seeps universally into the consciousness of the general
public and into daily life affairs like a faint color tint that spreads throughout. It is therefore
less noticeable in parts. Or we see it best by looking at the whole of our culture compared to
the whole of another culture that lacks this tint. Secondly, a dominant view of nature tends to
be seen as unchangeable. It is considered to be like the fixed setting of a stage for life. Now if
the modern vision of nature is not so fixed for all time, then there is a rationale for this paper's
"context of relevance."
A second thesis then claims that this "context of relevance" not only exists but is potentially
powerful - so that by changing our root worldview, we might revolutionize society.
Or stated negatively, by not revolutionizing our core understanding, alternative communities
may remain indefinitely on the fringes of mainstream society.
A third thesis is that every culture's root vision has a simple essence and only if we change
that essence, do we deeply transform society as a whole.
In modern times that essence, I believe, is the mathematical perspective. Now we might
believe that we are radically changing things by switching from Newton's vision to Einstein's;
or from Einstein's to the newest ideas of quantum mechanics. But these approaches never
once disturb the root perspective. The impact of such vision changes is thus more superficial making it seem that issues of physics have no real bearing or context of relevance to daily life.
Changing the root view, however, is an entirely different matter. For example, let's take the
influence of maintaining our quantitative view on any of the recent international economic
summit meetings, those that promote western-style globalization. There math-based statistics
like GDP, interest rates, and monetary trade balances try to define humanity's overall goals.
These statistics, centered on financial relationships, are ultimately steered toward the interests
of corporate shareholders maximizing their corporate wealth or profit. The latter monetary
rewards may be calculated as "net present value of future streams of cash flows discounted at
a prevailing or targeted rate and further adjusted for perceived risk variances." This kind of
strange business lingo is mechanistically impersonal, entirely math-defined, and mirrors our
underlying worldview's way of approaching life. As Nick Herbert writes in Quantum Reality:
"The search for a picture of "the way the world really is" is an enterprise that transcends the
narrow interests of theoretical physicists. For better or for worse, humans have tended to
pattern their domestic, social, and political arrangements according to the dominant vision of
physical reality. Inevitably the cosmic view trickles down to the most mundane details of
everyday life."
Background
My credentials for taking on this topic are somewhat "normative." I am presently a Ph.D.
candidate at Binghamton University in Philosophy, Interpretation and Culture (PIC). But the
original interest in philosophy stems from my being born into a Holocaust-surviving family trying to make sense of a senseless world. The interest in mathematics dates back to the age of
13 when after a summer's study, I passed a calculus final at Fairleigh Dickenson University.
After entering high school, there was no specially geared program so I was forced to retake
Algebra I - what caused me, out of natural boredom, to ponder the philosophical implications
of primary math symbolisms. At 17, however, I had a high fever that left me "aphasic" or
unable to connect any symbols fluidly or even to speak in whole sentences. This meant I was
left-hemisphere impaired and had to rely on the right hemisphere to guide me. Involuntarily
this threw me out of the math-tied or western worldview - and for that matter, out of any
conceptual context. It left me experiencing the world from the non-verbal or "silent" side of
the brain - the intuitive.
To amplify this, I lived in an intentional community. There I did manual work and followed
spiritual practices. The latter involved creating an imaginary and distant, unattached observer
of my inner experience to gain new insights. Recovering after a few years, I retrained my
ability to speak coherently and reconnect my sense of reality. With the conventional sense of
life exploded, however, I had to rebuild my inner universe otherwise - and, for me, on a more
whole-brain foundation virtually opposite to what is conventional.
Returning from a monastic existence, I dove back into the world of modernity, working on
Wall Street (as a CPA and president of two security firms) and latter in academia (as assistant
professor of accounting and finance). There I observed some of the practical ways of
executing modernity's quantifications - especially the broad monetarization or
commercialization of life.
Context of relevance
In different cultures, the larger vision of nature usually can be classified into three general
groups - secular (sensory-tied), religious (transcendent) and hybrid (semi-sensory/semitranscendent). In each of these groups we can see examples of how the core vision - the
central focus of the collective inner life - is not necessarily an objective way of seeing. It can
again artificially structure the whole of perceptions, which then alters substantially the social
and environmental conditions of life.
In indigenous hunter-oriented cultures, the hybrid form for the larger vision of nature is
often seen. Nature spirits perceived as present in their travels may predominate - and these
are often based on animals that most sustained their lives. A famous example is that of the
collective spirituality of the Plains Indians in the US. The buffalo was for them a vital source
of physical sustenance - providing meat and hides for food, clothing and shelter. The Buffalo
spirit understandably became their innermost spiritual focus. The Indians moved with and
lived in packs mimicking the Buffalo's ways and roamings. When the "iron horse" arrived - or
the railroads of the 19th century - these Indians faced not just the advance of European
culture but also the eradication of their revered buffalo herds. The white intruder, of course,
did not live in the same spiritual universe. With the external decimation, the Indians became
inwardly disoriented, dispirited, and ultimately saw the demise of their society in tandem
with the loss of their spiritual inner focus.
In parts of the orient, where Hinduism and Buddhism have been the dominant religions for
centuries, a very different conjunction evolved for their collective inner life. Here we often see
a hierarchical view of nature, especially of inner stratified realms as the central perspective. In
other words, there was the claim of ever higher levels of inner consciousness to be attained such as nirvana or complete detachment, Buddha consciousness and so on. Many of the
respective societies, those upholding the previously stated views thus naturally tended to
externalize their inner perspective - that is, to be also class-stratified or hierarchical. A notable
example is Tibetan society, with the Dalai Lama at the very highest position, and a further
subordinate social hierarchy of lamas underneath.
Moving further on to medieval Western Europe, here the chosen or psycho-culturally
latched on to vision is transcendently religious and externally hierarchical. The earth was
presumed to sit at the very center of the universe, and as if surrounded by a womb of
hierarchical, concentric and ever more divine spheres. The biblical God presided over this
cozy cosmic womb and thus served as a subconscious model for social stratification naturally
ruled over by ever more divinely inspired political hierarchies. Amid this constellation of
beliefs, the Roman Catholic order administered (or ministered) divine will on earth, delegating
the same to medieval and feudal monarchs - and prior thereto to the Holy Roman Empire.
Again society reflected the dominant image of the cosmos.
With the post-medieval or modern vision there came forth the familiar quantitative and
atomistic views. This intrinsically changed the primary soil of inner consciousness. It
inevitably fostered vast revolutionary changes that toppled the older rooted hierarchies. It
overthrew feudal, monarchical, and dynastic orders - not only in Europe, but eventually all
over the planet. The rule of impartial law rather than divine edict was to govern everyone mimicking the way the cosmos was governed by Newtonian laws. Writes physicist Fritjof
Capra, "modern economics…was founded in the seventeenth century…[with] Petty's
Political Arithmetik…replacing words…with numbers…Locke's atomistic theory of
society…fit perfectly." Saint Simone's Council of Newton tried to educate the public on
how the new laws of stars applied to society - advocating the same math-tied view. The
Cosmic Machine was extended to "logical, psychological… and sociological limits.
This brings us to our post-modern world. With the generation born after the explosion of
atomic weapons, plus ongoing wars, growing social alienation, and intensifying environmental
abuse and devastation - there have been cultural geysers in revolt, especially during the 1960's.
During that time many communes and intentional communities were formed, and I contend
not accidentally within the context of a post-modern vision revolt. Hippies and others sought
a new firmament in non-western philosophies, in existentialist and phenomenological
challenges, and even using drug-altering experiences for an escape. In the 1960's there was talk
of a vast "cultural revolution." But it did not quite come to pass as yet. No fundamentally
different cosmic vision took root and so predictably the essence of society remained the same.
In the vacuum, Wall Street continued its path. It drew in ever more capital and expanded its
model of security markets globally. It engaged in larger mergers, acquisitions, and forms of
international globalization - or the like concentration of power, some of which continued to
ravage the earth. All this time more than a few hippies capitulated and became yuppies.
Kibbutzes, the greatest of early intentional community movements, felt the pressure of
capitalism growing all around them. Many saw the practical need to relinquish earlier ideals.
Environmental movements, earnest and courageous, supported major initiatives but again, did
not stem the overall tide of avalanching ecological destruction.
Looking at the above examples of social conditions, structures and their correlated inner
visions of the world, it becomes apparent that social changes generally do have an inner
component of correlating depth.
Bringing this context of relevance to post-modern communities
Many intentional communities today follow "common themes" that may or may not be
explicitly stated. Vision statements often span social, religious, or political orientations - but
rarely if ever deal with a physicist or chemist's mechanistic view of nature. Some early
Woodstock, N.Y. communes did make an issue of their revolt against the "mechanistic vision"
of the Industrial Revolution as have a few other commune movements. But usually the larger
philosophical issues are left to physicists and philosophers to argue about and settle. They
seem too far removed from daily affairs or seem lacking of any "context of relevance."
This is similar to how, when a shopper buys an item labeled "natural and organic" or "without
artificial ingredients," there is an unspoken and indirect or subliminal challenge.
Are some chemicals really unnatural? Are most chemicals unnatural?
If so, is the order underlying chemistry, unnatural - the quantitative?
When a person is "shopping" for a type of alternative community something akin happens. It
too is unspoken. One way of bringing this issue to light is to say that many intentional
communities offer more "dominantly connective relationships. What I mean by "connective
relationships" is more cooperative, non-violent, gentle, spiritual, qualitative, loving, intimate,
and sharing. By "dominantly" I mean something subtler. There are a host of "separative
relationships" that have their place. A person may want to close the door to a room to keep
others out. He or she simply needs space to pull themselves together or to sleep in peace.
Then they can again reconnect with others more effectively later. Such separation ultimately
serves a connective purpose or is defined as "dominantly connective."
If we isolate ourselves out of some deepening fear, hate, or resentment - we then veer toward
what we can call a "dominantly separative" posture. If we work in a fiercely competitive
environment, against rather than cooperatively with others - again the posture is considered
"dominantly separative." Thus different intentional communities form unique balancing acts
between individual space and community life, between commercialism and its elimination.
Overall there is often the common intention to do more than conventional society - to form
more qualitative ties. This is not to say all communities succeed, but there are attempts. There
have been communes that have replaced money with barter between members. Some
communities give equal salaries to all members, obviating certain potential conflicts. Others
eliminate private ownership. A few restrict outside labor to strengthen internal social ties. We
might say there is no one right or wrong way of doing things but that each community
experiments to find its balancing point. How does all of this relate to our root vision of
nature? Where is the exact context of relevance?
It is my contention that mathematical symbols are our very highest abstractions for separating
all elements of consciousness - for guiding dominantly separative relationships. This then
causes them to so orient our view of not only physical phenomena in the laboratory but our
view of human nature and social relationships. I consequently see the countercultural
reactions of the 1960's - from the protest against nuclear weapons to the promotion of
organics and communal living - as all part of the same subliminal revolt against the underlying
core understanding.
But in order to fully make the case for this context of relevance vis-a-vis post-modern
communities, that root vision somehow must be convincingly changeable. At first sight it
doesn't seem that way at all. Our main vision of nature hasn't changed for the last 400 years
and the countercultural efforts of the 1960's seemed to have left only minor changing imprints.
Delayed reaction
Back in the 17th century, when the first enthusiastic proponents of the then "new
philosophy of nature" banded together into supportive societies, these earlier members were
severely ridiculed and socially suppressed. Bruno was burned at the stake. Galileo was put
under house arrest, and Descartes fled to the countryside. Nevertheless, their philosophical
revolution prevailed, though it took nearly a hundred years before there was a deep
breakthrough. In the 1960's, students were arrested or shot down in protests against "the
system." Four decades later, student arrests continue in the protests against globalization.
History, however, I believe will repeat itself with a nearly identical delayed reaction and
resurgence. It takes time to "till the cultural soil," to overturn enormously deep root
perspectives. It also takes time to digest the many preliminary approaches and a learning
curve.
Approaches
In the 1960's, two decades after the first explosion of the atomic bomb and in reaction to the
newly cynical view of science's "road to progress," Thomas Kuhn introduced the concept of a
"paradigm." He readapted this Greek word to mean a normative pattern of thinking that
dominates scientific circles for a while and then is displaced or replaced - and in a non-linear
(non-progressive) fashion. Here we consider the dynamics of larger and deeper controlling
patterns - the "central paradigms" that build a whole worldviews.
One preliminary step is to see the possibility of such paradigms existing to begin with - and
then to envision the possibility of their changing. Arne Naess, the originator of the
philosophy of deep ecology referred to such perspectives as the "total view" or the root
conception of our world. Ortega y Gasset called them the organic tendencies of each age for
integrating all of thought. Joseph Campbell saw them as unifying mythologies in most
cultures.
Beginning with this perspective, a further step is to then explore why and how such central
paradigm visions arise.
My view is that our inner life is "organic." By this I mean that our inner life tends to pull
itself to some unity in each person (especially amid sleep and deep meditation) and
collectively in a society. I attribute this to what I call the "rainbowesque" nature of inner
consciousness. What this means is a bit poetic and metaphorical. With the rainbow we can see
a display of seven colors coming out of and dissolving back into white light. The seven colors,
in radiant light, can combine to form an infinite variety of colors. This means there is a link
between infinite colors and a single white light into which they dissolve. Using this metaphor,
we might see inner consciousness as having a similar base - where infinite experiences of daily
life can lose their hard, separate edges - much like dream images can dissolve. Might this
express the deeper firmament of inner consciousness? As Jacob Needleman writes in A Sense
of the Cosmos, "organic life is a part…of nature…[and] reaches into the consciousness of
man." We are a part of the universe we are trying to fathom.
If this perspective is true, then these grand visions of nature and their central paradigms have
a vital role - to extract, express and apply the wisdom of this intuitively-known oneness.
Physically we feel healthy when we are whole and ill when we are not. Spiritually we feel
whole when we see in a whole, non-contradictory, and doubtless way. Therefore these central
paradigms offer to impart to us this sense of wholeness, surety, meaning and purposefulness
in our daily lives.
Identifying the "soul"
If we now take the above steps to see the possibility of central paradigms existing in most all
cultures due to the intrinsic nature of consciousness - a natural follow through would be to
identify this in our own modern times. This process is not at all difficult because these visions
tend to exclusively bring consciousness to a single unity. The exclusive singularity is their
giveaway.
In the 17th century Prince Cesi, founder of the Academy of Lynxes, the first scientific society
(of which Galileo was a member) went to Rome to defend the Copernican proposition that
the earth circles the sun. This was contrary to the then dominant vision of the cosmos as
earth-centered. Cesi's ultimate defenses were not based on what he and astronomers saw
through the telescope. They rather involved newer interpretations of The Book of Job of the
Bible. The latter described the sky as "molten looking glass" - thus composed of realities
more fluid and flexible. Those who defended the established earth-centered Ptolemaic
cosmology could counter by citing Genesis ("the stars were created to shine upon the earth").
Or they might refer to writings attributed to Solomon ("The sun circles through the meridian"
or " the sun rises and sets and returns to its place"), and to Ecclesiastics ("alone I circled the
vault of the sky" - referring to the sun).
The point is that revelation through the Bible - and via interpretations leading to the Word
of God - was the singular and exclusive passageway to truth.
Can we find this same kind of monopoly claim in modern times? For this purpose we may
turn to a quote from Galileo, taken from his The Assayer published in 1623. Here he presents
what became the philosophical foundations for the later emerging modern vision of nature:
"Philosophy is written in that grand book, the universe which stands continually open to our
gaze. But the book cannot be understood unless one first learns to comprehend the
language…. It is written in the language of mathematics… without a knowledge of them, it is
humanly impossible to understand even a single word of it. "
Again according to Galileo, not "a single word" of nature can be understood without the help
of mathematics. This kind of stance identifies a view as a central paradigm. The other
significant point is that such visions must be put to practice - to assume the role of a central
paradigm, namely to tie together an all-directional or universal perspective. Paraphrasing
Stuart Hampshire in his Age of Reason, all the great philosophers of the 17th century then
began to introduce math-like reasoning into all of human knowledge, including social,
economic, and political concepts and philosophy itself. The same is echoed by Morris Kline:
"The intellectual leaders of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries realized … they now had
the tenants…[for] a totally new outlook on the universe…which justified the reconstruction
of all of mankind's systems of thought, institutions, and way of life…a mathematicalmechanical explanation was available [that]…could rebuild philosophy, religion, literature, art,
political thought, and economic life…a sweeping reorganization of all knowledge and
institutions…the reconstruction of an entire civilization."
Next, there is a second and corroborating approach to finding the central paradigm or what we
might call the "soul" of a particular culture's worldview. It looks to the exterior rather than
interior - or seeing what physical structures dominate. For example, we might find a totem
pole pitched on the most sacred tribal hill - indicating what is most worshiped within.
Similarly, we might find a Buddhist monastery at the very center of a city along with a
towering Buddha. Or as Joseph Campbell describes Salt Lake City, we may see that the
tallest building in town is a church. For Salt Lake City this was followed by a municipal
building towering over the older church. The next succession saw bank, insurance and other
finance buildings dominating the landscape. This displays, as Campbell indicated, a brief
synopsis of the history of western civilization.
We see something akin in New York City. Trinity Church at the head of Wall Street displays
majestic gothic steeples pointing to God. It was once the tallest building in all of New York
City. It represented the inner dominance of the Anglican Church, and thus of the medieval
world's spirituality over the new continent. George Washington knelt there praying to God to
help in his revolution. He wanted to be set free from the older religious and political
repressions. Now Trinity Church is dwarfed by financial buildings made of cement, steel,
plastic and glass put together with redundant linearity - all reflecting an entirely different and
newly dominating inner vision.
Piercing the "soul"
After identifying this presumed "soul," we can then spotlight its essential nature in the context
of its role as a central paradigm. Does it really achieve its goal - to optimally connect our
vision to a resolving, doubtless, universally unifying oneness of understanding? Or are we left
unmoored, with a growing disorientation, alienation, confusion and chaos?
Much like in the 17th century when theology was in turmoil (because it could not come to
grips with Copernicus' and later Galileo's observations) the general public is not aware that
there is a similar crisis brewing in modern physics. "One of the best kept secrets," writes Nick
Herbert in Quantum Reality, " is that physicists have lost their grip... What shuts out the
public is...the language barrier...mathematics." Or James Gleick writes in his Chaos, that the
frontiers of physics have become a "battleship with bulkheads sealed against leaks.". Donald
Strombeck adds that no one has ever "observed quarks…few believe they will ever be
seen…quarks arose from…using mathematics as a means to an end…it has become an
investigation of a purely mathematical structure of the world."
Not every physicist will admit this, but many are extremely honest. Then question then
arises, can we get out of this dilemma with new and sharper forms of mathematics or do we
abandon ship and look elsewhere? In medieval times, the abandonment of the core view was
entirely too dangerous. The Inquisitors were ready to imprison or burn the infidels. In modern
times, there are no such dire consequences except for ridicule, derision, dismissal, and
disorientation. When Jacques Benveniste devised his famous homeopathic experiments, which
seemed to disprove the atomic/molecular or conventional model, he was threatened with the
loss of his academic position, and eventually did lose his funding and laboratory. As Science
Frontiers Online writes in this regard, "heretics beware, the Inquisition lives." But this fell far
short of the papal edicts against Galileo.
So let's imagine we dare to become such new "heretics" and to challenge the modern math-tied
perspective. There are at least a dozen major ways to critique this math-centered view - both
from laboratory and commercial perspectives. They are too many to touch on in this short
paper but we can get a sense of the process.
Mathematics, with its high abstractions, begins with counting, with the number "1" - the
universal concept of a "separate whole." Geometry likewise begins with a point, the same
concept expressed or displayed spatially. Now we can count three potatoes provided they are
not blended together. Separativity is the dominant direction towards which most math
symbols point or bias our conscious attention.
To approach this more metaphorically and in relationship to daily life, a couple may decide to
marry. But six months later they find out how different they really are. The husband can't
stand how the wife uses her toothpaste without putting the top back on. The wife can't stand
how the husband goes to sleep too late and snores. Gradually they see ever more differences
and begin to fight. After a while, they burn out from the stress of their conflicts, divorce and
live separate lives - either distances apart or behind separate house walls. What mathematics
does is to point to such separative relationships but on a much higher level of abstraction. For
example, we might abstract exact differences between 98.6, 98.67, 98.667 degrees Fahrenheit
and to infinitely finer degrees of heat; or between salaries of $11,500, $11,501, and
$11,501.50. Math symbols are a useful tool for countless such purposes, including numbering
pages - delineating precise differences to point to or to isolate a given page. However, when
the same symbolism is misused as a "central paradigm" it sets this dominantly separative tone
for the overall perceptions of nature. This viewpoint is great for designing machines made of
separate parts (what actually never occur naturally in "pristine nature," or nature untouched
by the human mind). But I believe it wreaks systemic havoc with biological systems whose
holistic consciousness is disturbed. We then, and as a consequence, see an ever larger list of
extinctions and threatened extinctions on our planet.
That is why these symbols, in my opinion, cannot and should not be the root basis for our
dominant means to connect a worldview. The key issues the 1960's revolted against (and the
environmental movement since) - such as our having the most ecologically destructive society
ever - I believe stem from this deeply erroneous vision of nature.
Back in the middle ages the average person wouldn't dare challenge a Vatican theologian's view
of the Bible - what took literally a lifetime to master, including the study of every possible
passage and major interpretation of the Bible. Today it takes as much effort, though of a
different kind, to master the twists and turns of mathematical formulas in modern physics. It
also takes several years of intense work to earn a physics Ph.D. degree - and there is as much
attachment and admiration. This learning experience becomes quite intimidating to the average
person who cannot begin to understand the ABC's of this language of physics or who
stumbles through its basics secondhand, using popularizing texts. It then seems natural to
only abdicate our judgements to others better trained. We understandably follow authorities,
and on faith, because they are more knowledgeable in this specialized territory of
consciousness. And we believe this is the territory wherein to wrestle nature's secrets since
everyone else seems to agree with this. We thus on faith give up control to others as to
choosing the master key directions of human consciousness.
It is my view, however, that nature is and even cannot be essentially mathematical - and
that this 17th century-born vision of modern physics is substantively wrong, poorly thought
through and over the long haul non-sustainable. Focusing on non-sustainability, if I am right
on this thesis, then time will eventually tell. Ultimately, I think the essence of modernity will
and must change to accommodate an ever more overwhelming avalanche of contradictions and
conflicts with nature - the arising of ecological crises. This naturally creates the context of
relevance for re-looking at the whole of what is by now an archaic view of nature (inherited
from the 17th century) - and what holistically applies to the essence of each of our personal
lives and to the entirety of any future evolution of society.
Toward a further evolution
When an infant child is born into a certain culture and long before it learns that culture's
symbols for connecting a worldview, it can look out at the universe "naked" of acquired ideas
from parents and teachers. It can see with what only nature has provided a child as senses in
the raw. The retinas of our eyes, for example, look outward using fibers that radiate like a
sunflower or equally in every direction. This kind of full radiance puts joy into the eyes. Or
when inner light is freed - not molded by cultural mores and free to see in a physically relaxed
way - it can gaze more naturally (impartially) in all directions at once. It can see whole. The
very fact that the same light, in every direction, touches all things means there is some
oneness - what we intuit even if the mind obstructs this understanding.
From this oneness, which in my experience is "rainbowesque," there evolves an equally
primordial "duality." By this I mean we innately become conscious of what leaves and returns
to that underlying oneness. To point to this I use the concepts of universal patterns of
separation and connection. This creates, again in my experience, what psychologists define as
"right and left brain awareness." But these terms are essential misnomers. The biological situs
can switch to the opposite sides of the brain. This also makes sense when this consciousness
split or duality arises out of the pre-biological nature of consciousness itself.
Why do I bring all this up? It is partly a) to start to outline a different vision of nature, one
that begins with integral oneness (not "separate, quantifiable/mathematical oneness" and no
longer points to the atomic model of physics as central) and b) to express my view that our
modern use of mathematics, while still in error, represents a major evolutionary step. This
may seem to contradict the three theses of this paper. But this occurs, I believe, because the
mathematical view gives us a pinnacle left-hemispherical understanding or of separative
consciousness. That alone remains a precarious and danger-filled inner anchor or central focus.
Through the failures of that vision, even if it takes 500 years to experience, we can then move
to a still higher integration - a right brain instead of left brain dominant view - or one that is
dominantly connective.
This evolutionary process has already gathered steam, especially after the 1940's. This was
subsequent to the frightening explosion of atomic weapons. Internally there was a recognition,
even among the scientific community, that the upward straight line of "modern progress"
might not be so straight. Then came the onslaught of further searchings through new
environmental philosophies, Kuhn's paradigm concept, existentialism's and phenomenology's
thrusts, and so on. Most of the focal images of the 1960's were entirely right brain dominant love and peace signs, the yinyang emblem, the experiments with communal living,
rainbowesque clothes, "flower children" (with flowers displaying nature's organicity), and the
soulful music of the era. With this changing perspective, allowing right brain wisdom to come
to the foreground, I believe we are still profoundly progressing. This evolutionary process is
displayed in the attached chart as a kind of "one picture that says it all" overview. Looking at
the whole intrinsically is a right brain perspective.
In summary, Copernicus seemed to have begun the spirit of the modernity by undoing a vast
cosmic illusion - changing the perceived outer center of the universe. We can go a quantum
step further by doing what Willis Harman once described as a "second Copernican revolution"
- namely to change the far more important inner cosmic center of and for understanding our
world. What follows from this is a more profound and yet deeper transformation of all of
society and civilization.
Postscript - practical steps
The scholar of communal studies may want to observe, from a distance, how larger
frameworks of understanding can alter community life. Communards might emphasize
practical steps for supporting ever deepening social and spiritual relationships between each
other in intentional communities - to escape the modern rat race - plus to embrace organic, decommercialized relationships toward all living things.
Ecovillages: the intentional communities of the future
Lucilla Borio
GEN-Europe
Many of the topics I will touch have already been addressed in the previous days.
Nevertheless, I will try to contribute to the debate with the ecovillage perspective and shed
some light on the logic which supports it, without focusing too deeply on the strictly
communal aspects which have already received attention.
The creation of micro-societies based on internal rules and dynamics has proven to be a viable
alternative and a melting pot for ideas and proposals that can subsequently make their way
into the world, and sometimes dramatically change cultures on a larger scale. This is precisely
why I believe in ecovillages as positive models for the future.
My present position as the European Secretary of the Global Ecovillage Network, a
consulting member of the United Nations ECOSOC Commission, gives me the honour to
serve this amazing multi-faceted movement spread over five continents, which promotes and
highlights a variety of human experiences taking place both in our western post-industrial
societies and in the so-called developing countries. To be honest it must be said that to date
we have not reached the ultimate perfection, the "ideal ecovillage" as such, even though in
1998 three GEN members (Findhorn in Scotland, Lebensgarten in Germany and Crystal
Waters in Australia) were granted the UNCHS award as "Best practises for improving the
living environment". There are a multitude of experiments at different levels of development, a
mixture of high ideals and hard reality, balancing between dreams and action.
Ecovillages can be found in different climates and cultures: in Europe, North America and
Oceania they are normally created on purpose by groups of people who move away from big
cities and return to a quieter, more rewarding lifestyle in less crowded areas. In Asia and
Africa, they develop from traditional villages where the social structure is somehow still
preserved and an ecological awareness arises as a positive reaction to adverse living
conditions.
For clarity’s sake I would like to start from the very definition of the term "ecovillage".
The two roots of the term stand out at first glance, and a quick philological analysis clearly
identifies it as an ecological settlement or dwelling. In GEN, we have further defined it as an
intentional, sustainable community located in a rural, urban or sub-urban area. The "eco" root
focuses on our inspiring principle, the concept of sustainability: a vision of the world that
strives for a high quality of life without taking more from the Earth than it gives back, and
which can therefore be continued into the indefinite future without depleting, and possibly
increasing, the resources available for future generations.
The term sustainability has enjoyed quite a bit of celebrity since the birth of the Rio
Declaration on Environment and Development and Agenda 21, at the Rio Conference in 1992;
it is often mentioned in public speeches and political programs, in environmental reports and
newspapers, but not always with the original definition and intention. This much debated
concept has for the ecovillage movement the clear meaning of treating the Earth and all
creatures (including humans) with deep respect and with a long-term view on the
consequences of our actions.
The concept of "Ecology" refers to the use of alternative technologies (like energy saving,
renewable sources, water treatment and conservation, natural materials for building and
restoring, organic farming methods). But not only: it also applies to a dynamic system of
human relations, planning principles, ethical values, spiritual motivations, economic strategies
and social interactions which make the ecovillage a highly complex structure in constant
evolution.
In this integrated holistic approach to human existence lies the beauty of ecovillage living.
The village root of the term refers to a structured settlement that can greatly vary in size but
normally ranges anywhere between 20 and 500 residents. It has some aspects of an intentional
community, such as a shared purpose, a membership status, at least one decision-making
body and a clearly defined procedure. It also has some features of a normal village, such as a
planning process, a few small-scale local enterprises, production of foods and goods for
internal use and for sale, at least one shop or similar food outlet and a village centre.
The ideal ecovillage is a rich and diverse settlement where the needs of daily life can be locally
fulfilled with mutual benefit for the individual and the community. Residents can do their food
shopping from organic or bio-dynamic farmers and shops, organise and attend cultural events
of various sorts, practise their creed or faith in freedom, exchange competencies and services
with their neighbours, and of course reduce consumption and recycle their waste.
Diversity is a key concept and a catalyst for a healthy ecovillage, and it implies the
responsibility of each participant to contribute as appropriate to the duties and pleasures of
communal living.
One of the great challenges in ecovillage development has to do with the difficulty to revise
the concept of urbanisation to correct a chronic short-sight on issues like energy
consumption, creation of green spaces, social security, local transportation, food and water
supply, meaningful employment. In short, I am talking about quality of life for all citizens, a
key concept which deserves all our dedication and pursuit.
The remarkable lack of it in many western cities and towns makes the official data on the
growth of Gross National Product and development rate look somewhat suspicious or at least
inadequate in telling us how our fellow countrymen really feel. It encourages us to consider
other less brilliant results, it opens our eyes to the fact that higher production and profit are
not sufficient to cure the malaise of nations which show signs of despair. Just to name a few,
in more than one European country the rate of suicides for people below twenty is on the
increase, a large share of the population alternatively indulges in tranquillisers and stimulants
and crime rate has reached unbelievable levels. At the same time our rampant industrial
production is pervading the four corners of the world.
Why is that? Of course there is no simple answer to this question, and much less does anyone
have a magic wand to solve the problems. A possible key the dilemma is the consideration
that we live in a quantity-oriented society, which tends to overlook the importance of being in
favour of having, and pretends to compensate our inner desire for love and security with the
offer to sell us a sexy perfume or a fast car. As opposite, Ecovillages aim at creating small
scale, quality-oriented societies, where human needs are not deceived in the name of economic
profit, where people can comfortably live with less and be content with what they have.
On a more technical note, ecovillage development is often based on the principles of
Permaculture, a land-planning and design method created by the Australians Bill Mollison and
David Holmgren more than 20 years ago and now taught in dozens of countries world-wide.
The core ethics of permaculture are care of the earth, care of the people, sharing of surplus.
Around these apparently simple principles a systematic discipline has developed which
applies to all climates, cultures and social contexts with the greatest respect and flexibility. It
not only aims at protecting the environment while supporting the birth of appropriate,
sustainable human settlements, but it also gives us the tools to restore damage done to Nature,
to increase soil fertility while growing an abundance of food, to harvest and recycle rain water,
to protect wilderness and make it available again for plants and animals.
It inspires us to learn from Nature, and simple as it may sound, this really is an invaluably
wise, forgotten message.
As said, ecovillages are complex systems. A key to understand their intrinsic nature is their
aspiration to find a harmonious balance between three fundamental aspects of life, namely the
social, ecological and spiritual/cultural components. We believe that all three factors are
necessary for a healthy development not only of the physical structure, but also of the soul of
its community. Each factor has a varying degree of importance in each ecovillage, according to
the inclination of its residents and to the local cultural context.
The social aspects have to do with personal relations within the community, their decisionmaking methods, the creation of meaningful jobs and roles. The importance of this aspect
cannot be underestimated. Inner conflicts, often resulting in tensions, when not properly and
timely dealt with have shown evidence of becoming terminators of apparently strong groups
with the risk of crippling or destroying them, especially in their early, crucial phases. Many
ecovillages have developed appropriate tools to deal with this unavoidable difficulty, and we
all know the ZEGG Forum as one of the most creative and effective methods presently
available. Mediation schools like the one created in Lebensgarten are well-established
institutions appreciated not only by communities but also by other components of
mainstream society.
As a support to our members, GEN-Europe is organising a brief course with Bea Briggs from
Ecovillage Huehuecoyotl in Mexico on consensus, an efficient and dynamic decision-making
method. It will be held right before the yearly gathering taking place in Poland in mid-July.
The creation of meaningful jobs, where people do what they like and like what they do, is
becoming a more and more relevant urge in the panorama of shrinking job markets world-wide.
Quoting Jeremy Rifkin, automation and technological change is having a hard impact on the
global labour force in all sectors, agriculture, industry and services. The ecovillage perspective
can offer a possible alternative to many women and men made redundant and stranded by this
trend, offering them a possibility to feel useful and respected and to experience the sense of
belonging again.
Reverting to the ecological aspects, I would like to add a few words about the important
concept of inner ecology. It means attuning with our inclinations and allowing our souls to
unfold according to their own peculiar nature, manifesting their uniqueness and beauty in
freedom and confidence. To do so, we need to feel immersed in a safe, supportive
environment, surrounded by friends who accept us for what we are, without judgement or
criticism. Ecovillages can provide fertile grounds for this realm of research, which is closely
related to the spiritual and cultural aspects of living.
As said, Ecovillages embody a sense of unity with the natural world, foster recognition that
human life and the Earth itself merit our deepest respect. The theoretical basis of this attitude
is to be found in the Gaia Principle.
This theory of the "Anima Mundi" was a significant step away from the mechanistic
paradigm coined by Descartes in support of objective science, which laid the philosophical
basis for the industrial revolution and the development of modern industrial society. The
concept of Earth as a living organism has deep implications on our relations with all its
elements, which become precious gifts and not simple raw materials at our disposal. The very
role of humanity shifts from being the "master of the planet" to being its guardian, with
responsibility for its protection as a beloved sacred entity.
Furthermore, a significant share of ecovillages have a spiritual focus related to specific creeds
and beliefs, sometimes linked with official religions (like the Buddhist Sarvodaya movement
which groups 11.000 rural villages in Sri Lanka), to spiritual guides (like Auroville in India,
Damanhur in Italy, Findhorn in Scotland), or to a mixture of faiths and spiritual practises
freely professed by the inhabitants in communal meditation spaces.
Creativity, arts, dances and music are other cultural elements which emerge freely and express
the identity of the community in all its richness.
One of the great cultural resources of Ecovillages is their educational potential, especially for
the young. A full immersion in an Ecovillage in direct contact with its creators can be a lifechanging experience for many visitors, a unique opportunity to learn by doing while enjoying
oneself and broadening one’s horizons. Practical skills and theoretical notions are part of the
curriculum, and are passed on in a frame of co-operation and mutual enjoyment, far from the
formalities of academic institutions and in tune with the rhythm of life. Many ecovillages are
open to travellers, students and volunteers and I invite all the cultural creatives to visit them
to get a first -hand experience.
In conclusion: why do I believe that ecovillages are the intentional communities of the future.
Today’s political and social struggles are no longer fought only between the traditional
parties but have to take into account a third, powerful factor that requests our undivided
attention and forces us to take the necessary steps: a factor called climate changes. An
increasingly large share of the world's population is severely affected by unprecedented and
extreme weather conditions, not to mention other disasters like constant loss of endangered
species, ozone layer depletion, soil and water contamination.
No responsible individual, community or nation can afford to ignore the situation. Following
the permaculture principle 'fight in favour of things, not against them', ecovillages accept the
challenge and experiment with alternative solutions, using the resources locally available. Some
of them are built from scratch following the most updated energy-saving technologies, others
originate from the desire to revive old abandoned villages, some are strongly spiritually
focuses, others have more secular or non-religious positions. What makes the ecovillage
movement unique is the diversity of its members, all joined by the common dream to heal this
planet on its physical, energetic and spiritual levels.
The goal of the ecovillage movement is to create a network of attractive examples for a future
society organised in self-reliant interactive modules which sustainably fulfil their requirements
for all basic needs of life, material and non-material. Each communal centre shall be
empowered to make decisions about their future and take full responsibility for the
consequences.
Harmonious, equitable and solidarian relationships shall be the essence of this human-scale,
decentralised society where everybody lives respectfully and mindfully with one another and
with the Earth. Ecovillages are not only pleasant and recommendable habitats for us and our
children today but are a necessary stimulus to trigger the advocated cultural shift and create a
much more attractive future tomorrow.
They offer a win-win solution to the needs of the individual, of the community and of the
planet. GEN brings this message to mainstream society, and we welcome your contribution to
make a viable future visible today.
Virtual Communities
Peter M. Forster PhD
School of Humanities, University of the South Pacific, Suva, Fiji
Abstract
In this paper, it is proposed that the new communication technologies, such as those that
work over the Internet, are providing opportunities for new ways of experiencing a sense of
community, particularly to people who previously may not have had such an opportunity. It
is also proposed that this sense of community is not substantially different to the sense of
community experienced by those groups characterised by physical proximity. Finally, it is
suggested that, while virtual communities will not replace communities of place, they
probably already provide an experience of community for many more people than are
involved in intentional communities and those numbers are increasing.
Introduction
The Internet
The Internet is a network of computers, routers, cables and protocols. The World Wide Web
(web) runs on the Internet and consists of the inter-linked pages of words, images, movies and
sound files. As well as the web, the Internet also supports e-mail, Internet Relay Chat (IRC),
instant messaging (such as ICQ), Internet to telephone telecommunications and Usenet
discussion groups, amongst others. At the time of writing, it is estimated that there are about
40,000 Usenet discussion groups.
Current estimates are that 55 percent of the adult population of the USA have access to the
Internet. Access wide enough to be labeled 'universal' is envisaged for that population by
2005.
The Internet is changing the way we interact with computers and with each other.
Relationships are made, sustained and dropped via instant messaging, e-mail, IRC chatrooms
and Usenet.
The Internet is also changing social development and dynamics. The rise of the 'teenage guru'
and of 'computer addiction' are changing family dynamics. Just as television led to the concept
of the passive 'couch potato', so interactive virtual friendships on the Internet have been
mirrored by shrinking face-to-face (f2f) social circles.
Virtual Communities
It is interesting to see what can be found on the web itself about virtual community. A search
using that phrase, with one of the popular search engines, found 109,318 documents. Many
of these documents refer to any on-line group as a virtual community. However, the search
also included an electronic copy of a book by one of the first commentators on virtual
community, Howard Rheingold. Since Rheingold published The Virtual Community in 1993,
much has been written about communities on the Internet. His idea was that, before the
Internet, communities consisted of people who lived or worked close to each other. If you
were lucky, he said, you might find yourself in a community of like-minded people, although
he thought it was unlikely that you would get a very compatible group in the same place. For
Rheingold, the global Internet transformed this - for those who have access to it - because it
enabled like-minded people to form communities regardless of where they were located in the
physical world.
Rheingold (1993) defined virtual community as follows:
A virtual community is a group of people who communicate with each other, to some degree
know each other, to some degree share knowledge and information, and to some degree care
about each other as human beings, who meet and for the most part communicate through
computer networks. Now, that's a bare bones description. You have to be very careful about
the word "community" there, and I add people who care about each other to distinguish it
from just a network. Now, you can have a community of interests who are people who have a
shared interest, who communicate with each other on a regular basis, who don't particularly
have a human connection. A group of engineers for a particular company, for example, might
fit that description. There is really no need for them to particularly care about each other.
By his definition, the Internet-based group known as The Well, which consisted mainly of
people living in and around San Francisco and which began in 1992, fulfilled his definition of a
virtual community.
So, regardless of where they are in the world, people with similar interests, backgrounds, or
attitudes, can join communities of like-minded people, and share views, exchange information,
build relationships, have fun, have fights, provide support and do all the other things that
people in communities of place do.
There is already evidence that many people form long-standing friendships on the Internet.
Parks and Floyd (1996) surveyed people who posted to a cross-section of Usenet groups.
Nearly two thirds of those who replied reported that they had formed a personal relationship
with someone that they met in a Usenet group. Opposite-sex relationships were more
common than same-sex, but only 7.9% were characterised as romantic. Those who formed
personal relationships were generally those who had been participating in the groups for a
longer time and who posted more messages. This is consistent with the view that the relative
lack of cues about a person means that relationships take longer to develop on the Internet.
The nature of these relationships varied widely. Some were intense and lasting, others were
weak and short. More than half the respondents said that their relationships covered more
territory than just the Usenet group subject. Most agreed with the statement, "We would go
out of the way to help each other if it were needed." Most also reported that their circle of
Internet friends did not overlap with their circle of f2f friends. This is one of the factors that
suggests the need for studies such as this, which look at communities that exist purely on the
Internet and nowhere else.
Who joins virtual communities?
Since the early days of the Internet there have been bulletin boards and 'chat' spaces where
users can interact online, and today, many web sites include chat or discussion rooms where
visitors can interact in real time.
Since participants cannot see each other, and are not obliged to reveal their real name or
physical location, there is considerable scope for people to reveal secrets, discuss problems,
or even enact whole 'identities' which they would never do in the f2f world.
A famous cartoon by Steiner has the caption, 'On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.'
This feature of the Internet, the assumption of radically different identities to those in the f2f
world, is even a requirement of that part of the Internet occupied by interactive, role-playing
games. It is a feature of the Internet that allows people to explore aspects of themselves that
they are uncomfortable with sharing in f2f settings and that allows people to interact with
others without having to reveal aspects of themselves that may be apparent visually, but that
they do not want to reveal, such as age, membership of ethnic group, gender etc. For example,
a person may join an Internet group for gay people and explore the possibilities of such
interactions, while maintaining a heterosexual persona in the f2f world.
The main aim of this study is to demonstrate that there are groups on the Internet that evoke
a powerful sense of community and that they are an important part of participants’ lives. A
guide on where to look was provided by the personal story of a member the Findhorn Bay
Community. That person’s spouse had a terminal illness and, despite being a member of a
close-knit community of place, chose to participate in an on-line group that provided
support, help and encouragement through the whole process of their spouse’s illness and
death.
Similarly, a psychologist called John Grohol found a Usenet group called
alt.support.depression while he was depressed about a friend’s suicide. That is a group where
people are prepared to listen and provide help at all hours of the day and night. Grohol found
it so helpful that he became involved with several Internet support groups and contributes to
a regular resource, ‘Emotional support on the Internet,’ (Harris, ongoing).
Davison et al (2000) investigated the support provided to and by participants in Usenet and
AOL Bulletin Boards devoted to diagnostic health categories. They report:
In view of the high rate of use by multiple sclerosis sufferers as well, the on-line domain may
be particularly useful in bringing together those who suffer from rare and debilitating
conditions, in which getting together physically would present a number of practical barriers.
Virtual support can be very attractive to those whose disability impairs mobility, and, more
striking, the on-line community allows for anonymity. Potent social factors like physical
attractiveness, vocal characteristics, ethnicity and social skills are neutralized.
Challenges to the concept of Virtual Community
One of the main challenges has come from those who see the ease of joining and leaving virtual
groups as an indication that people lack the degree of commitment that would characterise
communities of place. Most long-term participants in Internet groups will have observed
many people join and leave groups too rapidly to have any significant engagement with the
group or to leave any lasting impression. It is also possible to observe groups that form, go
through an intense life cycle and then decline and become unused, within a matter of weeks or
months.
Another criticism is that most Internet connections are through the written word on a
computer monitor. The argument is that the experience is therefore so impoverished that it
can never match the richness of the f2f experience.
The impressions that we form of other people are different f2f than over the Internet, in ways
that may make community building more difficult. Fuller (1996) compared impressions
formed about someone by people who either knew them f2f only, or only over the Internet.
Those who knew people f2f saw people in a very similar way to that in which they saw
themselves. However, those who knew someone only over the Internet saw them as more
logical, more thoughtful and less feeling or people-oriented than they or the f2f evaluators did.
As the Internet experience becomes richer, with voice and moving images being added to the
written word, so it moves closer to the f2f experience. However, it is perhaps worth noting
that that will reduce the possibilities for exploring alternate identities or sub-personalities that
the current Internet allows.
Related to this is the reduction in inhibitions many experience when relating through a
keyboard. Rheingold and others have observed both an increase in the extent to which people
disclose aspects of their life that they do not disclose through other media and also the
increased tendency to write things that others find offensive. This is the basis for the now
widely known phenomenon of flame wars, for which some Usenet groups and mail lists are
renowned. We might expect the former to increase the speed at which both intimacy and
communities can form on the Internet. The latter would be more likely to increase the risk of
conflict and thus the possible rate of dissolution of virtual communities. A study by Siegel et
al (1983) demonstrated that anonymity in computer-mediated group work, contributed to a
six-fold increase in the number of hostile remarks made by groups. Also, most seasoned
participants in Usenet groups will have observed newcomers posting messages, apparently
unaware of how many thousands of people will read their words and that those words will be
stored and available to all Internet users for many years to come. The cues for this are not in
the medium, as they are when presenting papers to conferences, for example. People are
sitting in the quiet intimacy of their own home perhaps, simply not realising, until they later
get some feedback, who their audience is. In other words, some people may stumble into a
community without even realising it and may have broken several of its rules before knowing
where they are.
Thus the aim of this study was to locate groups on the Internet which had the potential to
create a sense of community among at least some of their participants. Among the groups
looked at in this study, for reasons given above, were groups oriented to health. Another
obvious place to look was Internet groups connected with, or devoted to, long-standing
communities of place. Another potential location was Usenet groups in which the author has
participated for several years and experienced a sense of community. Would this be true for
other group participants? Finding a sense of community in such a group would also have the
merit of being counter-intuitive - Usenet is more often associated with spam and flame wars
than with a sense of community. Finally, the work of Richard Bartle (see Bartle 1996, for
example), game developer and MUD administrator, suggests some community-like aspects of
Internet game groups and so this study looked at one such group.
Having located possible groups, the next step would be to invite members of those groups to
complete a questionnaire that asked about the sense of community that the group engendered,
if any and the importance to the respondents of participating in the group.
Method
As the aim of the study was simply to locate people for whom Internet groups provide a
sense of community, pragmatism rather than theory drove the group selection process.
The document entitled, ‘Emotional Support on the Internet’ was scanned for groups which,
for reasons given above, were most likely to engender a sense of community. Three groups
were selected: Mail Lists for sufferers from autism, cancer and chronic pain, and for their
families. Mail Lists for ex-members of the Findhorn Bay intentional community and for those
with an interest in intentional communities were also selected. An Internet game group, Air
Warrior, was selected, as a member of that group saw the questionnaire invitation in another
list and offered to post the invitation to complete the questionnaire to members of the group.
Finally, two Usenet groups devoted to the same subject, one moderated and the other
unmoderated, were also chosen: soc.culture.hawaii and alt.culture.hawaii respectively. The
presumption here was that moderation may well influence the quality of the community
experience.
Where it was possible to locate a List owner or moderator, permission was sought to post an
invitation to complete the questionnaire. Each gave permission, so the next step was to post
an explanation of this study to the group and invite members or participants who wished, to
send for and complete the questionnaire given in Appendix 1.
The questionnaire was constructed to address the aims of this study. The questions are based
on the assumption that, if asked, people will understand the concept ‘sense of community’
and will be able to rate their experience of it on a five point scale which extends from ‘very
weak’ to ‘very strong.’ A copy of the questionnaire was sent to each person who requested
it.
Results
Several groups, the pain list, the intentional communities list, the Air Warrior game group and
the alt.culture.hawaii Usenet group, produced only one or two replies and were not looked at
further.
Summary data, for questions that could be summarised, are given in Appendix 2. The first
thing to note is the relatively low response rates, particularly for the health groups and
probably for the Usenet group soc.culture.hawaii. The latter cannot be determined with any
accuracy as the number of participants in most Usenet groups cannot be determined. It can
only be inferred from the rate of posting to the group. No inferences can therefore be made
about the representativeness of the respondents.
90% of the respondents were female, in contrast to the Internet as a whole, where 35% of
users are female. Their average age was 48, compared to the Internet average of 33. They
averaged 16 years of full-time education, had been accessing the Internet for 6 years and spent
an average of 19 hours a week on-line.
Sense of Community was rated on a five-point rating scale. For the four groups looked at in
more detail, respondents from all groups rated this at the higher end of the scale, mainly using
‘Strong’ or ‘Very Strong’ to describe their experience. Most respondents also used the higher
end of the frequency of participation scale, with over half connecting to the group either once,
or more than once, daily. All respondents used either the middle or the highest of the three
points that described how well they knew other people in the group. Most also used the
higher two of the five points that described the openness of communications within the
group.
Most identified the presence of occasional conflict within the group. It is not possible at this
stage to say whether those who identified no conflict within their groups were newcomers to
the group or were using the concept of conflict in a different way to the other members.
Those who identified conflict occurring in the group generally felt that it was handled either
well or very well.
That the experience of community within these groups was not superficial can be inferred
from the observation that most respondents identified participating in the group as either
important or very important to them, from the five-point scale. Significantly, the great
majority of respondents did not feel that the experience would be diminished if they did not
meet others in the group, either f2f, or by some other means. However, a little over half
responded that there were one or two people in the group that they would like to meet.
About half the respondents felt that they had changed in the way they related to people as a
result of participating in the group. Most respondents felt that they had also changed in some
other ways as a result of their participation.
All felt that their groups would last for several years, rather than for weeks or months.
It is the quotations from individuals that tell us most about the quality of their experiences.
Quotations were selected that pertained to the aims of this study and they are given in
Appendix 3.
Respondent 2 from the autism list writes of the sense of acceptance she has gained from the
group and how that has influenced her self-acceptance. Respondent 3 in that group contrasts
the community feel of the group as a whole with the family feel she gets from a smaller subset
of the group. Respondent 5 indicates that participating in the group has benefited her in
dealing with people f2f. Respondent 6 makes a powerful statement about how group
participation helped lift her from feeling depressed.
From the cancer list, respondent 2 writes about the freedom to talk about intimate details of
her disorder, which she feels cannot be spoken of elsewhere. Respondent 3 writes about the
closeness and the rich quality of the community feeling within the group, and its analogy to
communities of place. She also talks about the information that can be exchanged within
groups on the Internet, which would have been difficult without that medium. She also writes
about support being available when she or others need it, 24 hours a day. Also included is a
sample of a post to the whole list, not from one of the respondents, which illustrates the
quality of the group experience for that participant, with the emphasis on the feeling quality
of the experience.
From the list for former members of the Findhorn Bay community, respondent 1 writes about
both the quality of the group experience and how it helped her feel less lonely after moving to
another country. Respondent 2 makes a general point about the benefit of sharing over the
Internet, with people who are not physically present. Respondent 3 writes about Internet
community as a substitute for f2f community. For this respondent, Internet community is a
lesser substitute for a more wanted f2f community.
Respondent 1 from the Usenet group soc.culture.hawaii draws an analogy between
participating in that group and a conversation between strangers, thus indicating a sense of
community that may be less strong than other forms of virtual community. This respondent
also identifies his experience of Usenet as providing interest and companionship, without his
necessarily looking for that within one particular group. Respondent 2 met her current partner
through the group, which indicates some of the potential for meeting and making close
connections afforded by some groups. Respondent 3 describes one of the hazards of Internet
communities, which are perhaps more commonly experienced on the more anonymous Usenet
than in Mail Lists. Although a member of the cancer list informed me by e-mail about a
previous group member who had been discovered to have made up life-threatening cancer
symptoms to gain sympathy. She spoke about the diminished sense of trust within that
group for a while after the episode. It is not known whether the group has wholly recovered
from that experience. This happens too within f2f communities.
Respondent 4 writes about a major change of life that participating in the group facilitated and
also about the depth of the experience for her. Respondent 5 echoes respondent 3 from the exFindhorn members’ list in seeing the Internet experience as less than a f2f community.
Discussion
The combination of the high Sense of Community rating and the individual statements
describing the experience, support the idea that, for most of these respondents at least, some
Internet groups provide a strong sense of community that is important to them. Although, for
at least two of the respondents, the experience was lesser than for a community of place,
there is no indication of this for the remaining respondents. Indeed, for some respondents,
Internet groups may be providing the strongest sense of community currently available to
them. This seems to be particularly true for those with disorders or those with interests that
are rare, that restrict mobility or which carry social stigma.
Another point that is worth looking at is that of conflict within the group. Some Internet
groups have become so known for the intensity and duration of conflicts within them that the
term, ‘flame war’ was devised to describe the phenomenon. However, in this study, most
respondents experienced conflict within the group and yet this did not prevent them from also
experiencing mutual support, care and positive interest from and towards others in the group.
This suggests that it may not be the presence of conflict within a group that influences its
sense of community, but how well that conflict is handled. These respondents felt that such
conflict as there was, was handled well by the group.
It is also noteworthy that a sense of community could be sustained with group contact that
varied from once a month to more than once a day.
Part of the context for this paper is that of colleagues presenting papers, in the same
conference session, on Co-housing and on Eco-villages as the future of community. This
paper should not be seen as conflicting with those possibilities. Rather it should be seen as
supporting the idea that some people are looking for, and finding, a sense of community on
the Internet. At this stage, we have no reason for doubting that, for some people, their
Internet group provides, not just a deep and meaningful sense of community that is important
to them, but which also constitutes a primary source of support and contact with other
people. Some of these groups have already existed for several years and the respondents
expect them to continue for several years more. We can thus expect to find other similarities
between them and communities of place, including the developmental phases proposed by
such community observers and commentators as Shaffer and Anundsen (1993).
Davison et al (2000) asked whether the type of support available on the Internet is shallower
than would be available f2f. This study suggests that, at least for some people, it is not.
Future research
Having established that, for some people, meaningful community experiences are available on
the Internet, a useful next step would be to look more closely at that experience and compare
it with the experience participants have of other, more researched, communities. Using a
popular tool such as the Sense of Community Index of David Chavis, which is included as an
appendix in Perkins et al (1990), would facilitate such a comparison.
This study is also consistent with those that show personality differences between diagnostic
categories in terms of support seeking. For example, the cancer-prone personality is more
likely to seek support than heart disease patients (Davison et al, 2000). Are there personality
differences between those who find satisfying community experiences on the Internet
compared to those who do not?
The latter study also predicted that health-oriented groups with an authority figure present,
such as a doctor, would be less cohesive than those without such a figure. Do authority
figures inhibit community formation in Internet groups? The answer to this may depend in
part on the way in which authority figures, or putative authority figures, communicate with
the group. It was disappointing to have so few replies from the Usenet group
alt.culture.hawaii, as well as the other groups. It is an unmoderated group, in contrast with the
moderated group, soc.culture.hawaii. The author has been a long time participant in both
groups. Moderation is a form of leadership and experience of these groups leads to the
possibility that unobtrusive leadership, performed in the background, combined with posts to
the group which do not carry direct indicators of leadership, do not inhibit the sense of
community. Moderators in the latter group are elected by the group and have always been
long-standing participants in the group. They are people who tend to be liked and respected
by the other long-standing participants in the group. These are points that may also be
investigated in further studies.
Finally, in the USA and Western Europe, most people move house several times in their lives.
These changes may mean people lose touch with their communities of place several times
over a lifetime. There is now a substantial body of work that demonstrates that this is not
good for our health - that we are more prone to illness and do not live as long, when we are
deprived of our social networks (see, for example, Berkman and Syme, 1979; Seeman and
Syme, 1987; and Wolf, 1992). It is worth investigating whether participating in a virtual
community can provide continuity of communal experiences through physical moves and thus
help to mitigate the deleterious effects of such moves. Virtual towns have already been created
on the Internet. Will these grow and extend the experience of community beyond those that
currently exist online?
Conclusion
Hopefully, one of the things this study makes clear is that virtual communities are not going
to replace physical communities – that they can and do exist in parallel with other
communities in which we participate. And for some people, virtual community is just not
what they are looking for. However, for some people, in some situations, virtual communities
do not just provide an adequate experience of community, they provide a very deep, real and
profound sense of community.
To end, here is a quote from a member of the Cancer list:
Online groups such as this can be visited at any time of day or night and it doesn't matter.
Posts are there tying people together. A question is put out to the group and within minutes the
answers start pouring in. Someone is depressed and there is always another to listen,
encourage, and support. Threads begin to form from one computer to another, and pretty
soon there are enough to keep people coming back and a community forms. I see it happen
everyday with new members joining and feeling such happiness in finding exactly what they
need.
This is the sense in which virtual communities will be a significant part of the future of the
communal experience for years to come.
References
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MUD Research, 1 (1). Available at http://journal.pennmush.org/~jomr/v1n1/bartle.html
Berkman, L. F. and Syme, S. L. (1979). Social networks, host resistance and mortality: A
nine-year follow-up study of Alameda County residents. American Journal of Epidemiology,
109 (2), 186 – 204.
Davison, K. P., Pennebaker, J. W. and Dickerson, S. S. (2000). Who talks? The social
psychology of illness support groups. American Psychologist, 55 (2), 205 – 217.
Fuller, R. (1996). Human-computer-human interaction: How computers affect interpersonal
communication. In D. L. Day and D. K. Kovacs (Eds). Computers, communication and
mental models. London: Taylor & Francis.
Harris, S. (ongoing). Emotional support on the Internet. Available at
http://www.netservs.com/care/
Parks, M. R., and Floyd, K. (1996). Making friends in cyberspace. Journal of
Communication, 46 (1), 80 – 97.
Perkins, D.D., Florin, P., Rich, R.C., Wandersman, A., & Chavis, D.M. (1990). Participation
and the social and physical environment of residential blocks: Crime and community context.
American Journal of Community Psychology, 18, 83-115.
Seeman, T. E. and Syme, S. L. (1987). Social networks and coronary artery disease: a
comparison of the structure and function of social relations as predictors of disease.
Psychosomatic Medicine, 49 (4), 341 – 354.
Shaffer, C. R. & Anundsen K. (1993). Creating Community Anywhere. New York:
Tarcher/Putnam.
Siegel, J., Dubrovsky, V., Kiesler, S. and McGuire, T. (1983). Group processes in computermediated communications. Study cited in Wallace, P. (1999). The Psychology of the Internet.
Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Rheingold, H. (1993). The Virtual Community. Available at http://www.rheingold.com/
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Pennsylvania. Integrative Physiological & Behavioral Science, 27 (3), 246 – 257.
Appendix 1 – Questionnaire on virtual community experiences
In June 2001, I will be presenting a paper entitled ‘Virtual Communities: the Future of
Communal Living?’ at a conference of the International Communal Studies Association.
I am gathering data from people who participate in different types of groups on the internet,
to see if they get the kind of the experiences that previously people got from membership of
communal groups located in the same physical place. These would include such things as
villages, church groups, clubs, self-help groups and so on.
Below are some questions that will help me find out about that. I would be grateful if you
could answer these questions and send the results back to me at the address at the bottom of
the page. All results will be treated in confidence. No identities will be revealed. I will be
presenting summary statistics and selected, anonymous, quotes only, to the conference
participants and possibly in the proceedings of the conference.
Background Information
Are you male or female:
How old are you:
How many years of full-time education have you had since starting in Primary School /
Kindergarten:
For how many years have you had Internet access:
How many hours do you spend on the Internet each week (including e-mail, Usenet, ICQ,
chat groups, web browsing etc):
Do you spend more, less or about the same amount of time on the Internet as you did one
year ago (please go on to the next question if you have had internet access for less than one
year):
What is your occupation:
In which Internet group did you see the invitation to complete this questionnaire:
Internet Participation
In which of the following do you participate:
Internet Relay Chat: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which rooms or groups do you participate in most frequently (please name up to 3)?
Internet Mail Lists via e-mail: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which lists do you participate in most frequently (please name up to 3)?
Interactive Games: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which games do you participate in most frequently (please name up to 3)?
Usenet groups: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which groups do you participate in most frequently (please name up to 3)?
Web-based chat groups: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which groups do you participate in most frequently (please name up to 3)?
Any other interactive, internet-based group (your own e-mail based group, for example): Yes /
No
If ‘Yes’, which?
Which of the above groups feels most like a community to you?
Please would you keep that group in mind as you answer the following questions.
Aspects of community
Could you define your idea of a successful community (of any kind) in one or two sentences:
When you think about the Internet group that you identified above as feeling the most
communal, would you describe the sense of community that you get from it as:
Very strong / Strong / Neither strong nor weak / Weak / Very weak
Does this group have a central core, aim or activity that brings participants together: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, what is it?
How did you join the group?
What kind of group is it:
Moderated / Unmoderated / Not relevant / Don’t know
Are there any restrictions on who may join or participate in this group: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, what are they?
How frequently do you participate in the group:
More than once a day
About once a day
About once every three days
About once a week
About once every two weeks
Once a month or less
Has a group in which you were a member ever ended: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, how did you feel at the time?
Here are some words that could describe your experience of this group. Please check all those
that apply to the group and add any others that apply, to the bottom of the list:
Enjoyable
Satisfying
Useful
Meaningful
Stressful
Spiritual
Political
Secular
Exclusive
Hierarchical
Collective
Aggressive
Friendly
Humorous
Diverse
Sexual
Sharing
Informative
Competitive
Supportive
Materialist
Welcoming
Cynical
Geeky
Technical
Interesting
Intimate
Warm
Equal
Relaxed
Moderated
Individual
Serious
Philosophical
Intellectually stimulating
Creative
Your own words:
How much do you know about the other people in the group:
A lot / Neither a lot nor a little / A little
How would you describe the quality of the communication within the group:
Very open / Open / Neither open nor closed / Closed / Very closed
Is there ever conflict between participants within the group: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, how is the conflict handled:
Very badly / Badly / Neither badly nor well / Well / Very well
How important to you is your participation in this group:
Very important / Important / Neither important nor unimportant / Unimportant / Very
unimportant
Will your experience of this group feel incomplete or unsatisfying if you cannot meet the
other participants face to face: Yes / No
Will your experience of this group feel incomplete or unsatisfying if you cannot contact the
participants through some other means, such as the telephone: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, which means would make it more complete or satisfying?
Are there just one or two people from the group that you would like to meet face to face: Yes
/ No
If ‘Yes’, why would you like to meet them?
Do you think that your participation in this group changes the way you relate to people
through other means (such as face to face, over the phone etc): Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, in what way?
Have you changed in any other way as a result of having participated in this group: Yes / No
If ‘Yes’, in what way?
How long do you think the group might last:
Days / Weeks / Months / Years
Is there anything else that you would like to say about your experience of participating in
groups on the Internet, that is not covered in the questions above:
Thank you very much for participating in this study. Please could you send your completed
questionnaire to me at one of the following addresses (e-mail preferred):
Dr Peter M Forster
School of Humanities
University of the South Pacific
Suva
Fiji
Fax: (679) 305053
E-mail: [email protected]
Appendix 2
Group:
Autism-L
Cancer-L
Ex-Findhorn-L
soc.culture.hawaii
N / Total
Gender
Age
Education
Internet Access (yrs)
Internet weekly (hrs)
6 / 1,678
6F 0M
41
16
6
18
5 / 375
5F 0M
51
17
4
19
3 / ~40
3F 0M
48
15
5
19
6 / ?
4F 2M
53
16
7
19
SoC (1 - 5)
Gatekeeping
Frequency
Know others (1 - 3)
Communications (1 - 5)
Conflict
Conflict handling (1 - 5)
3.9
Moderated
1W 2D 3>D
2.2
4.5
6Y 0N
4
4.4
No
3D 2>D
2.2
4.8
2Y 3N
4
4.5
Yes
1B 1D
2.7
5
2Y 1N
5
4
Moderated
1M 1B 4>D
2
4.3
5Y 1N
3.8
Importance
Meet - f2f
Meet - other
Meet - some
4.3
0Y 6N
0Y 6N
4Y 2N
4.8
1Y 4N
1Y 4N
4Y 1N
4
0Y 1N
0Y 1N
1Y 1N
4
0Y 6N
0Y 6N
3Y 3N
Change - relating
Change - other
4Y 2N
5Y 1N
3Y 2N
4Y 1N
1Y 2N
2Y 1N
3Y 3N
6Y 0N
Lasting group?
6 Years
5 Years
3 Years
6 Years
Table 1. Demographic, Internet group and quality of community information for four Internet
groups.
Appendix 3 – Selected quotations from group participants
NB Words or phrases that might identify the respondent have been removed and replaced
with […].
Autism List:
Respondent 2:
[Participating in the Autism list is] Vexatious - sometimes dealing with [autistic] people can
be troublesome and exhausting because it takes them so long to learn how to act in a socially
acceptable way. But we don't dump them as long as (1) they are not acting awful
intentionally, and (2) they do not keep the room from functioning as we want it to.
I am more accepting of myself (don't need to be perfect at all times!) and I am less afraid of
making mistakes in public because I KNOW I have an accepting peer group at home in the
computer. I also have no sense of loneliness, even if I do not see people for a week at a time.
Respondent 3:
The St Johns autism list feels like a community but my own private list feels like a safe little
group...more like family.
I don't know what people did before these groups. It must have been an isolating experience
for parents of autistic children before the Internet.
Respondent 4:
I'm not so stressed out from not being able to talk to others about my son's autism and our
treatment of it. I have very few "real" friends that understand all that, the way the people on
the lists do, and I used to feel very different from my "real" friends because of this.
Respondent 5:
Feel more hope for the future. Group has helped me to laugh at things that used to make me
feel heartbroken.
I actually preferred the semi-anonymity of groups than being in a face-to-face group. It helped
me to pull myself together emotionally before facing a face-to-face group.
Respondent 6:
This sounds very dramatic, but I think participating in groups on the Net, in a way saved my
life. When my son was diagnosed, there was a list that helped me to understand what autism
is, what kind of help I could expect and also lots of venting helped. I was so glad with that list
for nobody in the ordinary life, understood this - my worries and my troubles and what
autism is.
It was a listmate who posted me I should get myself checked for my way of thinking was so
much as him. This helped me to get on the right track and with my psych we found out my
autism as well.
When this wouldn't have happened, I think I still would be down and depressed and who
knows what would have happened for I felt failing life more and more.
Lots of people do very denigrating about lists on the Net, but they don't know how great it is
you can talk to fellows in the same situation, and you don't even have to get out of the house,
and don't have to be dressed up, and/or look at the time for doing it. For me it works great!!
Cancer List:
Respondent 2:
It is best we don't meet. I think we need the anonymity to remain free to express our most
intimate problems. Where would one talk about an abscess by their anus? Certainly not lunch
talk!
Respondent 3:
Question: Could you define your idea of a successful community (of any kind) in one or two
sentences.
Answer: Same group of people who regularly share their lives with each other, discuss issues
they are facing, give each other support and caring, and openly give and take information,
affection, and caring.
I feel particularly close to some and feel we have enough in common to be friends. Others I
feel very close to as well, but we would probably never be close friends. More like members
of any community. Some would be closer than others. Kind of like members of a church or
club. You care about everyone, but can only really be actively involved with a few. The
sense of having a common thread is important, however, and brings a diverse group of people
together for a common purpose. We are from all walks of life and this makes the community
rich, diverse, enlightening, and growthful.
I find I can care deeply for people who are very different from me and this has been growthful
for me. I come from a very educated family and an intellectual group of friends. I find in a
group like this that I can be emotionally close to and involved with people I would probably
never have known previously as our paths would not have crossed. This has made me much
more aware of how much we humans have in common and how well we can support each
other.
Finding a specific type of support group is very difficult for people in smaller communities.
The Internet provides access to others in similar circumstances. In the case of cancer, for
instance, the amount of knowledge and experience shared in this group is phenomenal. People
find others who have been through what they are going through and it is extremely helpful to
have this information and support. Online groups such as this can be visited at any time of
day or night and it doesn't matter. Posts are there tying people together. A question is put
out to the group and within minutes the answers start pouring in. Someone is depressed and
there is always another to listen, encourage, and support. Threads begin to form from one
computer to another, and pretty soon there are enough to keep people coming back and a
community forms. I see it happen everyday with new members joining and feeling such
happiness in finding exactly what they need.
As a therapist I never would have thought that a group such as this could work never
meeting face to face, but it does. Perhaps it is easier for some because it is not face to face and
they can "lurk" until they feel comfortable enough to jump in. Others jump right in from Day
One. Some may never share, but just "lurk". Perhaps that is all they can do at this point for
whatever reason. At least they can get information, hear other points of view, and see how
others are dealing with each other. This community is probably very helpful even to those
who never participate actively but only on the sidelines. (This would be another interesting
study, I would imagine. Kind of like parallel play before co-operative play.)
Ex-Findhorn Bay Community members list:
Respondent 1:
I'd never have expected such satisfaction from the written word. […] As for the group and
how it functions, it is a faithful continuation of the goodwill as well as tough reflection of
groups-in-the-flesh at Findhorn. I don't find it only lovey-dovey. I do like being able to
introduce any theme and get creative feedback from someone, somewhere around the globe
within 24 hours. We seem to be mature both in age and experience of groups, so support is
quickly available from empathy as much as sympathy, and 'no bullshit' responses are
carefully and considerately worded.
My situation may be unique (whose isn't?!) in that I live in a culture to which I moved aged
[...], so have no very long-standing friends. I also feel different from […] and know that I am,
which has caused me to feel lonely. Now I have daily contact through the circle with likeminded people around the world my needs for feelings of contact are well satisfied, which
means I'm not so needy of my immediate physical and social environment. I feel freer, fuller in
the heart and enjoy being able to follow themes of interest both in the group and through
private out-of-the-circle mails.
Respondent 2:
I think a major feature of intimate, loving internet groups is that they force us to "tune in" to
feel what someone means by their words instead of taking clues from tone and inflection of
voice and body language. Also, after 5 years of running an intimate, sharing group […], I feel
that there are times where it is helpful to folks that sharing is somewhat "distant" (i.e. - not in
each other's physical presence) and other times (and personalities) where it is not.
Respondent 3:
‘Community’ is a modern substitute for the old fashioned communities like villages, streets,
families, where in their diversity people, care for each other’s well being. I believe that
something essential is lost and people crave and desire for more closeness and caring.
Nowadays it is easier to start a community where there is a common ground. Although I
really like Internet ‘Communities’ part of me hardly believes you can call it a community as
face to face contact is missing. However, in the internet community I am part of, I do
experience a sense of community and again, that might be desperation as my street is as
uncommunity-like as it can get!
soc.culture.hawaii Usenet group:
Respondent 1:
Much like the conversation which might arise around a campground bonfire on a summer
evening, between strangers met that evening with a common interest in camping and travel curious and willing to share, but likely not to meet again.
There are not many other venues in which it's as easy to fly to a topic of interest and relate to
others world-wide, as with the Usenet. Because: Usenet groups are indexed and searchable,
unlike chat groups or radio or telephones, they are unencumbered by world-wide time zones
which leave your counterpart asleep while you're awake. If a usenet group is uninteresting or
uncompanionable, it's easy to move on. Their membership is the world at large, and growing.
If your interest is broad, why spend your life in the small town where you were born? Why
limit your turns of phrase to only those common to a local dialect? N'est pas? Nicht wahr?
Or more to the point: "He lawai'a no ke kai papa'u, he pokole ke aho; he lawai'a no ke kai
hohonu he loa ke aho." (A fisherman of the shallow sea uses a short line; a fisherman of the
deep sea uses a long line.)
Respondent 2:
Question: Have you changed in any other way as a result of having participated in this group:
Answer: Yes
Question: If ‘Yes’, in what way?
Answer: I met my live-in boyfriend through the group.
I was on Midway Island for several years, and on Tern, Wake and Laysan islands for shorter
periods. I felt very isolated and lonely until I got involved in the USENET community.
Respondent 3:
Mostly it's been a positive experience. However there truly are kooks in the world who love
to prey on people. I've unsubscribed from [Usenet] newsgroups where I find this happening.
Respondent 4:
Question: Have you changed in any other way as a result of having participated in this group?
Answer: Yes.
Question: If 'Yes', in what way?
Answer: I am moving to Maui!! I am learning Hawaiian. I want to learn enough and be enough
to share too.
I pop in and out of other groups as I need specific information. None have been as welcoming
and helpful as sch. I read sch for my soul.. And learn so much while there.
Respondent 5:
I "used" to think meeting the participants would make the experience feel more complete.
But, I met some participants that ended up using the experience to create cliques instead. I'd
rather not get involved in that, and I'd rather just want to stay out of appearing to be cliquish.
It's an alternate community, but we have to always remember it's not entirely real. I don't take
it overly seriously, and I wish others wouldn't, too.
Cohousing: Bringing Communalism to … the World?
Graham Meltzer
Abstract
Cohousing is a new type of intentional community that has developed in response to
perceived social problems of the late twentieth century – personal and household isolation
and the breakdown of community, in particular. Cohousing communities integrate
autonomous private dwellings with shared utilities and recreational facilities such as kitchens,
dining halls, workshops and children's play facilities. Residents utilise their shared facilities
to establish a rich community life of social, recreational, cultural and work activities. They act
collaboratively to address the practical and social needs of individuals and families, recognising
the importance of social relationships and shared ties as antidotes to alienation,
disempowerment and stress.
Although many of its underlying principles are derived from social experimentation of the
1960s and ‘70s, cohousing is not a marginal or fringe phenomenon. In Denmark where there
are now some hundreds of cohousing projects, bofælleskaber as they are known, offer a
genuine housing option. Furthermore, cohousing principals and strategies are being integrated
into many other social housing projects. In North America, about fifty communities have
been established in the last decade. Although this comprises a minuscule proportion of the
population, cohousing has recently attracted wide-spread public interest. Because it is a
mainstream housing type, cohousing has the potential to attract or influence a critical mass of
people, and so make a quantum difference to long-term social and environmental
sustainability. This paper will discuss the spread and influence of cohousing, not just in the
West, but in Asia and the developing world, as well.
Introduction
Three years ago, at ICSA ‘98, there was occasional though somewhat heated debate, about the
legitimacy of cohousing as a topic of the conference. Some delegates claimed it had not yet
established sufficient credibility, whilst others argued that it was not sufficiently opposed to
mainstream Western values. I hope and expect that perceptions and attitudes have changed
since then, and that cohousing is now recognized as a legitimate, indeed a significant, new
communal phenomenon. It is legitimate because it displays the attributes and parallels the
characterisations of other communal types. Cohousing involves groups of people with shared
values and resources, living together voluntarily, in order to establish and build social
cohesion. It is significant because of its phenomenal success, its remarkable rapid spread and
the widespread interest in communal living that it has generated. Some hundreds of cohousing
communities have been built in the last thirty years, in many different countries and cultures.
The early ones have generally enjoyed stability and harmony and the model has demonstrated
considerable robustness, having been successfully adapted to meet diverse local needs and
constraints. Importantly, its influence has been profound, far beyond the projects
themselves. Cohousing theory and practice has informed the thinking of municipal
governments and housing providers, planners and architects, cultural analysts and social
planners, health and aged care workers, and dare I say, a significant proportion of the general
population. It has done so, because it has both an urban and a mainstream focus. As I see it,
cohousing presents a model and prompts a vision of a sane and sustainable future for urban
society, not just in the West, but in developing regions, as well. In this paper, I will briefly
present an analysis of the historical development of cohousing, leading to a discussion of
current trends and some speculation about future directions and scenarios.
The European origins of cohousing
Cohousing is popularly believed to have originated in Denmark due mainly to the influence of
the book, Cohousing: A Contemporary Approach to Housing Ourselves. The first (1988)
edition focused almost entirely on the Danish phenomenon. The authors, Californian
architects Kathryn McCamant and Charles Durrett coined the term ‘CoHousing’, which they
argued was a “Danish solution” to the social problems of late 20th Century post-industrial
society . It should be acknowledged however, that throughout Northern Europe, organised
collective living has a rich tradition stretching back at least two hundred years . Furthermore,
during the 1970s when cohousing, as such, was first established in Denmark (known there, as
bofælleskaber) very similar collective housing projects with comparable origins were being
realised in the Netherlands (centraal wonen) and Sweden (kollektivhuser) ; . Because all three
countries enjoy socially responsive and politically progressive cultures, the advantages of
communal living was widely recognised and quickly appropriated. In each country, cohousing
developed as a mainstream housing option, despite being underpinned by many of the
principles and practices of its predecessor communes . Importantly however, cohousing
projects also varied significantly from their antecedents, the nature of these distinctions being
different from country to country.
Denmark
Danish communes of the 1960s and ‘70s were unremarkable by comparison with their
American counterparts. Few were sectarian or charismatic and the proportion advocating
radical lifestyles (eg. drug use, complex marriage and bohemian or hippie alternatives) was
relatively small . Most members or their households had their own private quarters. The
accommodation was generally comfortable and material living standards were often improved
through the sharing of resources. They were not ideologically or politically extreme but were
generally proactive in supporting the disadvantaged, particularly the homeless, single parents
and students on low income. They provided, according to , “a large measure of stability,
warmth, genuine affection and a feeling that the individual member is indeed useful and
wanted.” Most communards were well-educated middle-class citizens with conventional
employment and recreational pursuits. They saw communal experimentation as a logical
extension of a civil and tolerant Danish society and were generally well supported by
neighbours and the authorities . Nonetheless, the first cohousing-like proposal, designed in
1964, met with considerable hostility from particular neighbours and was never built .
Ultimately, the political climate and radical social literature of the late sixties inspired two
Danish cohousing groups to purchase properties in Hillerød (North of Copenhagen) and in
Copenhagen, itself. Financial and practical difficulties delayed occupation of these projects
until 1972 and 1973 respectively.
Sweden
The differences between Danish and Swedish cohousing lie principally, in their physical form
and their socio-economic underpinning. Danish cohousing predominantly comprises low-rise
(ie. one or two storey) medium-density attached dwellings with a separate, detached common
house. Commonly, the architecture takes a neo-vernacular character, its layout, form and
materials being derived from rural building traditions. The common house is usually located
centrally or at the entrance to a site, assuming a symbolic and functional importance. Swedish
cohousing, on the other hand, is mostly found in medium to high rise apartment blocks which
appear little different from conventional mass housing types. Common faculties are buried
within the building, though their presence may be indicated by larger than expected windows
or volumes.
Further significant differences are found in the social and economic imperatives which drive
Danish and Swedish cohousing. Danish bofælleskaber originated, (and continue to be built) in
order to build better social relationships and a deeper sense of community. Swedish
kollektivhuser originally had a more pragmatic raison d’être. Instigators sought to reduce the
burden of housework, particularly for women entering the workforce, and improve the lot of
children with working (often, single) parents. In a manner that never existed in Danish selfmanaged cohousing, services were established to provide meals and undertake housework and
childcare. This, essentially feminist intent, met with significant resistance from maledominated Swedish housing institutions and political organizations .
The Netherlands
Dutch cohousing differs significantly from Swedish types, in form, scale and social intent.
Whereas Swedish kollektivhuser comprise substantial buildings with centralised common
facilities and services, their Dutch counterparts occupy low-rise buildings, similar in scale to
Danish cohousing, but with a more urban form and character. Because the Netherlands is
significantly more densely populated, the degree to which cohousing projects blend with, and
are integrated into, their neighbourhood is more carefully considered . Unlike both Danish and
Swedish cohousing, centraal wonen usually have decentralised common facilities, with
clusters of six or eight households sharing a kitchen and dinning room with more domestic
qualities. In part, this is due to a humanistic Dutch architectural tradition which, according to
, has a “fascination for the manipulation of space and form in order to achieve intimacy.” In
Dutch cohousing common dining tends to occur in small groups, not with the whole
community, so is less noisy and more intimate. Theoretically, residents can join a cluster of
households with similar aspirations (such as, desired frequency of common meals per week)
and move between clusters if necessary.
Cohousing in the Netherlands originated in much the same way as Danish cohousing, through
the radical social literature of the late sixties. Yet, its social intent and consequently the
demographics of Dutch cohousing has always been different from the Danish and closer to the
Swedish experience. It tends to be more focussed on practical advantages of communal living,
and so attract a greater proportion of singles, single parents and the elderly. Dutch cohousing
has generally been readily accepted by neighbours as well as government and housing
providers alike. Currently in the Netherlands, to a lesser extent in Denmark, and less again in
Sweden, little housing of any kind is built without reference to cohousing theory and practice.
The Second Wave: North American cohousing
In the mid 1980s, Katie McCamant and Chuck Durrett returned to California from a study
tour of Danish cohousing and, in 1988, published their findings in Cohousing: A
Contemporary Approach to Housing Ourselves. It sold 3,000 copies in the first month .
Over the next two or three years, McCamant and Durrett vigorously promoted cohousing in
numerous public workshops and slide presentations. One held in Davis, California in late
1988 sparked the first American project, Muir Commons, completed in 1991.56 Within a few
years, pockets of cohousing had been established in Northern California, Washington State,
Massachusetts and Colorado. Although American projects incorporated most of the physical
attributes of Danish cohousing (such as low-rise attached dwellings, centralised common
facilities and peripheral parking), they also developed significant new variations. The changes
included:
1. new development and procurement processes;
2. an effort to reduce material consumption; and
3. the emergence of a cohousing ‘movement’.
New development processes
In Denmark, Sweden and the Netherlands, most cohousing is developed as social housing by
non-profit organizations. This is rare in America. One project, Winslow Cohousing, was
developed by an equity cooperative of residents, and another, by a non-profit organization
seeking to build cohousing for a low-income black community. Predominantly however,
American projects are privately developed, although most groups use consultants and
developers to expedite the design and procurement process. About 80% of groups employ
outside consultants while the remainder design and develop their own projects, usually with
input from resident professionals. About 30% work with property developers, who
typically undertake financing and project management roles . One development company in
particular, Wonderland Hill, has largely been responsible for a wave of cohousing
development in Colorado. American groups often employ a ‘lot development model’
whereby a site is carved up into house lots which are sold separately (together with a share of
the commons) and developed individually. This results in cohousing projects with
considerable diversity of architectural form, scale and character, the likes of which is not often
found in European cohousing.
Another cohousing model, different to new-built projects, is known as in-situ or retrofit
cohousing. Whilst uncommon in Europe,57 this approach has been effectively used in the US
and Canada to recycle disused industrial and commercial buildings. In the process, such
projects become a catalyst for broader social change. Blighted inner-city suburbs have been
injected with fresh life by cohousing groups that have seen their potential and purposefully
integrated with and politicised the neighbourhood. In suburban locations, longstanding
neighbours have created ‘expanding’ cohousing without relocating or building anew, opting
instead to knock down the fences between existing dwellings, share backyards, and establish
common faculties. N-Street Cohousing, for example, in Davis, California, started when two
neighbours decided to remove the fence between them and garden their backyards together.
Over time, more and more neighbours who saw the value of greater sharing and collaboration
joined the group simply by removing perimeter fences and making a commitment to
56 The matter of which was first is disputed. At least two communities were established before
this time but not known as cohousing until later.
57 McCamant and Durrett (1988) reported two in-situ projects..
contribute to community life (). Each household provides a resource that they share such as a
workshop, laundry, sauna etc. The ground floor of one building has become a dedicated
common house.
Figure 1: N-Street site plan with date of each household’s admission
Reducing consumption
The principal social intent of American cohousing is similar to that of the Danish, namely,
improved relationships with neighbours and a greater sense of community. In addition to
that, widespread concern about profligate consumerism in the US, has introduced there, a
strong anti-consumerism. This has led (when coupled with American entrepreneurial flare and
social innovation) to cohousing with extensive sharing and high levels of practical support.
Cohousing residents live in more compact building types (town houses and apartments) than
they did previously, contrary to an overwhelming national preference for large detached
dwellings. Indeed, about 85% of cohousing residents reside in attached dwelling types while,
prior to moving into cohousing, 70% of the same households lived in detached family homes.
Cohousing dwellings are small by American standards, the average floor area (125 m2) being
about half the national average. Perhaps more importantly, Americans living in cohousing have
reconceptualized their domestic space needs, enjoying habitable spaces for their qualities, not
their material content and associated status symbolism. This is perhaps best exemplified by
the Pine Street project in Amherst, MA (). Living rooms are small and simply but elegantly
furnished. The spatial and functional requirements have been assessed only in terms of basic
human needs: comfortable seating, the opportunity for face-to-face interaction, the provision
of strong natural light and good views to the exterior. In another instance, the provision of a
mezzanine play space has enabled the footprint of a child’s bedroom to be reduced to a
minimum.
Figure 2: Pine Street: Efficient use of space allows minimal room size (top).
A compact living room combines simplicity with high amenity (bottom)
About 50% of American groups have a written mission statement that makes explicit
reference to living in a caring, pro-active relationship with the environment - a codification of
values which is very rare in Danish cohousing. The majority of those American communities
without a mission statement, still have a strong but unwritten ethos that challenges what
many in cohousing believe to be a fetishism of material acquisition that is endemic in wider
society. The support for such practices as recycling, composting, car pooling and reduced
consumption enables cohousing residents to adopt lower-impact lifestyles in ways they
would not contemplate in more conventional circumstances . Cohousing residents, for example, have
reduced by one quarter, the number of freezers, washing machines and dryers that they own and by three quarters, the
number of privately owned lawn-mowers. There is ready sharing of smaller household items in every cohousing
community although only one, Commons on the Alameda in Santa Fe, has formalised the process by circulating a list
of equipment that each household owns and is willing to share ().
Figure 3: Lending List of household items available for use by others
Category
Item
Lender Unit #
Category
Item
Lender Unit #
Gardening
Hand trowel
A5,A6,B1,B4
Outings
Backpack
A6,A7,B1,C7,D3
Lawn mower
A6
Bicycle tools
A7,B1,C7,D3
Leaf rake
A2,A5,A6,B1,B3
Car bike rack
A5,A6,B1,C5,C7
Pick
A2,B3,C4
Bikes
A2,A5,B1,C5,C7
Pitch fork
B1,B3
Canoe
A2
Shovel
A1,A5,C4,C5,C7
Climbing helmet
Sledge hammer
C4
Compass
Tree loper
B1
Ice axe
Weed eater
B2,D2
Life preservers
Weed scythe
C4
Maps
Wheelbarrow
A2,A4,A6,B1,C4
Snowshoes
Tents
Building &
Back belt
A6,B1,B3
maintenance
Bucket
CH,B1,B3
Carpentry
Cooking
A2,D3
A2,A5,B2,C7,D3
A2,D3
B1,C5,D3
A6,B1,B4,C7,D4
D3
A7,B1,B4,D2,D3
Coffee pot
A6,D5
C4,C7
Cookbooks
A4,A5,B1,C4,D4
Dolly
A4,B1,D3
Corn popper
C4,D5
Drill
A6,B1,B4,C6,D5
Crock pot
A5,B4,C5
Elec. screwdriver A6
Cuisinart
CH,A5,A6,D4
Foot pump
B1,C7
Juicer
A6,B1,C7
Hammer
A2,B1,B4,C7,D3
Mixer
B1
Jigsaw
A6
Oversize mixer
Jumper cables
A4,B1,C4,C5,C7
Pasta maker
Mitre box
B1
Pressure cooker
Sewing mach.
A6,B3,B4,C7,D3
Wok
Staple gun
A6,B1,C7
Toilet plunger
A5,B1
Toilet snake
B1
Other
CH,D4
B1
CH,A2,A5,A6,B1
A6,B1,B4,D4
Blow up bed
C4,D5
Single futon
D5
Folding tables
Cleaning
Mini vacuum
A7,C4
Rug cleaner
B1
B1,D3,C6,C7
To add your valuables to the list, call Ken.
The movement: networking, publicity and the Internet
Another distinctive characteristic of American cohousing is a propensity for communication
and networking. Word of mouth and ever increasing publicity have been very effective in
spreading awareness and interest in cohousing. Many communities are now wired for internal
(or intranet) electronic communication and the World Wide Web is utilised intelligently to
promote and provide support for groups and communities. National and regional conferences
are held regularly to exchange skills and knowledge. It is, perhaps, these attributes above all
else, which gives the cohousing phenomenon in North America, the feel and momentum of a
genuine social movement.
The Third Wave: Cohousing on the Pacific Rim
It seems reasonable to suggest, that the growth of cohousing in Northern Europe in the 1970s
and ‘80s constituted the ‘first wave’ of cohousing development and that its subsequent
spread throughout North America in the ‘80s and ‘90s constituted a ‘second wave’. I would
like to propose that a, previously unheralded, ‘third wave’ is currently underway. It
commenced, with the arrival of cohousing in Australia in the early ‘90s and has slowly
developed since in dispersed locations, namely, New Zealand, Japan, Korea and western parts
of North America – in short, around the Pacific Rim. I believe it constitutes the next wave of
cohousing activity, not simply due to its chronology or location, but because it represents a
new direction in cohousing development with distinctive characteristics, both practical and
philosophical. Both the built and proposed projects deliberately and successfully confront
challenges largely unmet by the second wave of cohousing projects. They are the issues of:
• accessibility and affordability;
• ‘green’ architecture and ecological habitation; and
• adaptability and responsiveness to suit regional and cultural difference.
I will discuss these developments in the three following sections, but first wish to comment
on the unheralded beginning and continued slow pace of the third wave, which is interesting
when compared with the way cohousing burst onto the scene in America. By contrast,
cohousing arrived without fanfare and has developed slowly in Australia. The first project,
Cascade Cohousing, was started in Hobart, Tasmania in 1991. Since then, only two more
projects have been constructed, one in Fremantle, Western Australia (1997) and the other,
again in Hobart (1999). Cohousing has been slow to establish in Australia for culturally
specific reasons. Communal living, despite a long and rich history in Australia, has remained
outside the mainstream range of lifestyle choices . Communal groups have mostly lived in
remote locations (as are Hobart and Fremantle) and been marginalised or discounted by a vast
majority of the public. In good part, this is due to what Denis Altman58 has labelled, a
58 Altman is a noted Australian political scientist and social activist.
uniquely ‘Australian conservatism’. Altman suggests that an exaggerated emphasis on
prosperity and home ownership59 has established ‘two pillars’ of Australian culture, the
accumulation of property and an emphasis on privacy and family life . The easy availability
of land in Australia led to an early proliferation of low-density suburbs that reinforced this
highly privatised social culture (. Furthermore, post-war Australian attitudes and aspirations,
in so far as there has been a consensus, have been predominantly based on middle-class,
bourgeois values (hard work, prosperity, respectability and family life) and the essential
assumptions of liberal capitalism (individuality, competition, consumerism and domesticity).
The ubiquity of these cultural traits is one reason for cohousing being slow to establish in
Australia, but there are others. argues that the “smallness of the Australian dream” has
become a value in itself, creating suspicion of both intellectual and visionary thinking. Yet,
the two do not necessarily coexist. In the US, there is a similar anti-intellectualism but a much
stronger tradition of utopian thought and a historically derived vision of Americans as
pioneers that has long fed entrepreneurial drive and innovation in that country. Their idealism
and risk taking, which seem not be part of the Australian psyche, have no doubt contributed
to the more rapid development of cohousing in the US.
Affordable cohousing
Despite the cultural impediments or perhaps because of them, in 1991, an individual
visionary60 and a small but determined group inspired by McCamant and Durrett’s book
bought a degraded block of land and commenced building Australia’s first cohousing …
themselves. Home sites were progressively sold off according to the ‘lot development model’,
by then, well established in the US. Aware of the pitfalls of this approach, the group together
with an architect, established binding guidelines that mandated low energy, passive solar
architecture and ensured architectural coherence to the project as a whole. This group’s
greatest achievement, however, was in demonstrating the possibilities of sweat equity, or selfbuild, as a means to greater affordability. Residents built compact homes (105 m2 on
average), mostly without carports, guest rooms or laundries. Over a period of years, the
group designed and built themselves extensive site works, landscape gardens and a 250 m2
common house (). Its excellent kitchen, dining and lounge rooms are used by most residents
as their primary social space. The laundry, guest room and TV room are also well used.
59 At about 70%, Australia has the highest rate of home ownership in the world.
60 Ian Higginbottom, having read McCamant and Durretts’s book undertook a study tour of
Danish cohousing in 1989, then returned to Hobart to establish a cohousing group.
Figure 4: Cascade Cohousing: Self-built houses and landscaping under construction
(left) and sharing a meal outside their self-built common house (right)
By different means entirely, the second cohousing project in Hobart has achieved an enviable
level of affordability for its residents. Cohousing Cooperative, as it is constituted, received a
million dollar government grant to provide housing for eleven low-income households.
Members of the cooperative, pay 25% of their income in rent, and have security of tenure.
They are a diverse mix of singles, single parent households and nuclear families. As they
didn’t need capital to join, the adult population has the youngest profile found anywhere in
cohousing, ranging in age from 25 to 40. The third Australian cohousing community, Pinakarri
Cohousing in Western Australia, has been particularly innovative in terms of its approach to
affordability. It comprises a hybrid mix of publicly and privately funded dwellings, eight
rental houses for low-income members and four that are privately owned. The group is
constituted as an equity/non-equity cooperative. Clearly, Australian cohousing, in each
instance, has addressed the issue of affordability in a determined and creative manner.
Green cohousing
Almost all cohousing communities of the second wave had either explicitly written (in their
mission statement) or implicitly held intentions to build ‘lightly on the earth’. However,
recent evaluation of North American cohousing suggests that in only a few cases have groups
realised their aspiration for a genuinely low-impact architecture . Many groups reported
being restricted by the requirements of regulatory and financial bodies. Resistant contractors
and the cost premium they applied to non-standard products and processes frustrated others.
Most groups found that research of the environmental impact of materials and methods
required too much time, given the already very demanding nature of the development process.
Fortunately, we can now see a genuinely ‘green’ cohousing architecture emerging in recent
projects of the ‘third wave’. This has come about through the eschewing of one of the
primary underpinnings of previous cohousing in Europe and North America, namely, the
generic site planning strategies identified by McCamant and Durrett ().
Figure 5: Four generic cohousing site plans (after McCamant & Durrett 1994:175)
One of the fundamentals of low-impact architecture is its orientation. In cold climates at
least, buildings must face the winter sun if they are to achieve even a modicum of energy
efficiency. This is near impossible to achieve whilst designers accord with conventional
cohousing thinking and locate buildings around a courtyard or along both sides of a pedestrian
street with their living spaces facing inward. Most American projects conform to one or other
of these four generic layouts due to the influence of McCamant and Durrett on the evolution
of American cohousing, both through the success of their book and their consulting as
architectural practitioners. In contrast to this approach, the residents of Cascade Cohousing,
having first sought a suitable block, eschewed the potential social advantages of conventional
cohousing site planning by stringing out the houses in a line facing northward. They built
predominantly in lightweight concrete block for its insulation properties and advantages for
self-builders. The houses incorporate considerable thermal mass and large north facing
windows. A detailed energy audit revealed that the average energy consumption of the
dwellings is about half that of similar sized houses in Hobart . Furthermore, this community
appears to be as socially cohesive as any other irrespective of their having little enclosed open
space.
•
•
•
•
•
Across the Tasman in a similar climatic zone New Zealand’s first cohousing is currently under
construction. Earthsong Eco-neighbourhood have encapsulate in their name, the intention to
build a project with low environmental impact. In using the word eco-neighbourhood rather
than eco-village they are making the point that theirs is an integrated urban project, not an
autonomous rural one. Their vision statement explicitly states their intention to design and
construct layout, buildings and services that “demonstrate the highest practical standards of
sustainable human settlement.” Furthermore, they seek to “assist in the education and public
awareness of sustainability by demonstrating and promoting innovative community design
and environmentally responsible construction” . They are hoping to do so by incorporating,
amongst other measures:
Buildings that are oriented North and designed for energy efficiency and natural climate
control using passive solar design.
Building materials and components chosen with regard to their energy content, low toxicity,
low environmental impact, durability and suitability for recycling.
Rainwater collection in a 30,000 litre tank for household and garden use.
Solar water heaters to provide the bulk of hot water needs.
Comprehensive site design based on permaculture principles and organic, edible landscape
gardens .
This is a comprehensive package, of the like not found elsewhere in cohousing. Along with
Cascade’s achievements and those of recent projects on the North American West Coast
this represents a positive new trend of cohousing’s third wave.
Responsive cohousing
I have described the spread of cohousing as a sequence of three distinct but overlapping waves
of development and transformation. I would further argue that the evolution of the cohousing
model has been continuous in at least one respect. As it has evolved, from its Northern
European roots to current iterations on the Pacific Rim, cohousing has become more and more
diverse. To an increasing extent, it has been adapted to local and regional climatic, cultural,
political and economic conditions. It has become more responsive.
Perhaps as an artefact of a homogeneous agrarian culture, Danish cohousing has a sameness
from project to project. With some exceptions, the architecture is similarly neo-vernacular.
Building form and layout is derived from traditional farm buildings of one or two stories with
black gable roofs and masonry walls painted ochre or white. Socially and demographically,
their homogeneity is simply a product of the culture generally, one of ethnic uniformity,
widely held humanistic values and limited extremes of rich and poor. North American
cohousing initially took a distinctly Danish form, but as it has spread, regional differences in
climate, culture and tradition generated an architecture of much greater diversity than exists in
Denmark ().
Figure 6: Regional cohousing: Pacific North West (top left), New England (top right),
West Coast neo-Victorian (bottom left) and the Santa Fe ‘style’ of the South West
(bottom right)
Admittedly, these projects are also neo-vernacular, being derived from traditional building
forms within regions. However there is evidence to suggest that North American architects
and designers are moving away from references to the past toward a more contemporary
architecture. This trend is most obvious on the West Coast where there is, perhaps, greater
confidence, innovation and freedom from regulation. Windsong Cohousing, for example, a
project near Vancouver, has a form that must be unique amongst Canadian housing projects.
The Swan’s Market project in Oakland, California is an inspiring contemporary conversion of
a disused industrial building into a vital mixed use project incorporating cohousing, commercial
tenancies, a museum of children’s art, another art gallery, at least three restaurants and a
number of shops ().
Figure 7: Windsong Cohousing (top) and Swan’s Market (bottom).
Both within each community and across the movement, North American cohousing is more
demographically diverse than its Danish antecedent, mostly because of the greater
heterogeneity of the general population. For example, there are extremes of income within US
cohousing, that have caused a resident of Southside Park in Sacramento to write,
Our community faces a special challenge when it comes to decisions about
money, due to our success in achieving considerable diversity of income level
among members. The more well-off among us need to temper some desires
while learning to contribute, at times, more than their proportional amount to
meet a community need
Despite the fact that groups lament their lack of ethnic diversity, variability has been achieved
in members’ backgrounds, attitudes, priorities, preferences, and aspirations. Indeed, their
diversity has been broad enough to confront individuals’ values and challenge group cohesion .
The third wave is already demonstrating an even greater adaptability and responsiveness to
cultural difference. I have observed of Australian cohousing, for example, that it has taken a
very informal approach to many of the systems that Americans seem to take very seriously.
Might this be a reflection of the, admittedly stereotypical, ‘laid back’ Aussie demeanour?
Take common meals, for example. One thing that keeps people from community meals,
observes, is pressure to be involved in cooking. He notes that, “if you have a setup where
you have to cook in order to be a participant, those who can’t or don’t want to will drop
out.” This was exactly the scenario being played out at Nyland Cohousing during my visit in
1996. A member lamented, “I am very concerned about the ongoing disaffection at Nyland
over the policy that requires each community member to cook every cooking rotation. The
conflict over this agreement is beginning to cause serious rifts in our community” .
Australians, however, have taken a very relaxed approach to common meals procedure. At
Cascade, for example, cooking is “appreciated but not expected”. The sign-up sheet ‘invites’
members to cook between one and four times per cycle, depending on approximately how
often they eat and how much they like cooking. Yet, frequency of participation is not
recorded or monitored, nor does any money change hands. Unlike cohousing everywhere else
where the cost of the meal is recovered from participants, the cooks at Cascade do the
shopping and cover the cost in the expectation that “what goes around, comes around”
(Australian aphorism). There is no budget, so the total cost varies according to the personal
predilections of the cook, for freshness, organics etc. There is not even a rigorous sign-up
procedure for participating at common meals. Cooks can never be sure how many will show
up, so they cater for 20 and if the number varies, they improvise.
Paradoxically, this extraordinarily loose approach is very deliberate. Cascade’s members
believe that good social relations will more likely develop in an atmosphere of relaxed
informality, rather than one of monitoring and accounting for participation and expenditure.
Admittedly, this is expedited by the small size of the community, just 28 members (including
children), which is about half the average for North American groups. Perhaps because of the
cultural impediments outlined above, this is another difference that might characterise
Australian cohousing. The others are also small, comprising 30 members (Coop Cohousing)
and 31 (Pinakarri). A forth, ‘mini-cohousing’ project now exists in Brisbane. It comprises
just seven residents (including three renters) and ultimately will only accommodate five or six
households at its small, inner-city site.
Cohousing arrives in Asia
A unique adaptation of cohousing principals to suit local circumstances has occurred in Japan.
In Tokyo, there are two collective housing projects directly inspired by Danish and Swedish
exemplars, one funded privately and the other, publicly. Both have taken unconventional
approaches to common meals to suit the stressful lifestyle and late working hours of Japanese
employees. The former utilises a barbecue set within its shared rooftop garden, the other
commissions serviced meals twice a day, 6 days a week ().
Figure 8: Shared dining facilities of the privately and publicly funded project in
Tokyo.
In Kobe, when new dwellings were required quickly and in vast numbers following the
earthquake, the authorities built what are known as Fureai houses (meaning “places of
friendship”). There are about 300 units in ten projects of between six and 71 units each. They
are occupied predominantly by low income singles and couples, mostly elderly. In
recognizing the value of collaboration and mutual support as a means of overcoming hardship
and material need, the Fureai houses were equipped with common spaces and facilities for
residents to share. Admittedly, these are not cohousing projects in a conventional sense.
Many would argue that without a participatory design process, no amount of common
facilities, material sharing and social interaction can create cohousing. “Build it and they will
come” … perhaps … but it’s likely that they, the residents, will never cohere as a
community, in the way that cohousing groups become bonded through the usual cohousing
design and development process. Nor will they develop the decision making and dispute
resolution skills that operate so effectively in most cohousing communities. This is borne out
in the case of the Fureai houses where the common spaces are not well utilised and, indeed,
resented by some residents as an extra expense and maintenance burden. According to Dr
Namiko Minai, a researcher at the National Institute of Public Health, “residents struggle
amongst themselves, as they were not really organized or trained before they started their life
in those flats” (Personal communication).
In both Japan and Korea there is growing awareness of the theory and practice of established
cohousing, at least amongst academics if not the general public. In Korea, a professor of
sociology has recently published a book about cohousing, incorporating examples from
Europe, America and Australia.61 Another Korean professor recently spent a sabbatical in
Australia to study cohousing with me and has since published in the journal of the Korean
61 Dwelling Research Group (2000) Cohousing in the World: Dwelling with Neighbours. Seoul,
Kyomunsa.
Housing Association.62 His students, the next generation of Korean architects, have been
designing cohousing projects. Yet, knowledge of cohousing in Asia remains mostly
theoretical; to my knowledge, only the Tokyo project has been designed and built by
participatory process. Yet, there is sufficient interest and motivation to suggest that many
may follow. This flies in the face of much cohousing rhetoric. Cohousing is often touted as a
Western phenomenon, with little relevance to non-Western societies, which are presumed to
be based on extended families and high ambient levels of social support. In truth, Asia has
suffered devastating social disruption over recent decades through rapid and ill-considered
Westernisation that has brought a breakdown of family and community structures as well as
loss of cultural values. There is a appreciation now of the role that cohousing has played in
reversing these trends in the West and a readiness to apply cohousing principals to address
similar needs. Dr Minai writes,
Japan has quite different way of thinking about housing and community
development from the United States and other ‘Western Countries’. On the
other hand, we do have common problem of small scale families and other
related problems of community destruction. Children find it difficult to play
outside, and they do not face to [ie. encounter] different attitudes of adults,
and many children do not have chance to discuss their thinking with their
neighbours. Cohousing may solve some of these problems, and that is why I
am interested in this research (Personal communication).
Dr Minai and her team are now attempting to improve the social dynamics of the Fureai
Houses by implementing measures drawn directly from the cohousing literature.
Cohousing in developing countries?
As unlikely as cohousing activity in Asia may seem, that something similar might occur in
Africa is, perhaps, even more surprising. Yet, cohousing theory and practice is now informing
the thinking of South African authorities responsible for providing housing to low-income
families in and around Durban. A cross-cultural research initiative involving architects from
South Africa, Denmark and Australia has proposed that the cohousing model be adapted to
help provide care for the vast numbers of HIV/AIDS affected children, orphans and families in
South Africa.63 There is a deep-rooted tradition of extended family dwelling patterns in
South Africa,64 a tradition that is not supported by current housing provision of small
62 Shin, Yong-Jae (2001) “A Study on the Harmony of Privacy and Community in
Cohousing.” Housing Research Journal, Korean Housing Association, V12/1, pp45-56
63 In 1998 the South African Department of Health estimated that by 2005 there would be
nearly one million children under the age of 15 who had lost their mother to AIDS (Whiteside
1999).
64 Zulus, the predominant ethnic group in Kwa-Zulu Natal, traditionally lived in extended family
groups. Relationships between various family members and others of the clan and the tribe, as
well as the distribution of labour were clearly established. The structure of the extended family,
led by the male head, his wives, children and relatives, was reflected and reinforced in the placing
of the various huts within the ‘kraal’, the traditional village form which is still predominant in
rural areas.
isolated dwelling units on individually owned plots of land ().65 The idealised nuclear family
upon which this model is based, is now the exception in Kwa-Zulu Natal, a situation
exacerbated by the HIV/AIDS epidemic ravaging the population.66 Lacking social welfare,
individuals and families fall back onto adapted forms of extended family support where these
are available. To this end, the application of cohousing theory has been suggested as a means
of rethinking new housing provision and reinforcing traditional social support mechanisms .
Figure 9: Traditional extended family village (left) and government provided housing
(right)
Conclusion
In this paper, I have traced the evolution of the cohousing model from its origins amongst
social progressives in Northern Europe, through a ‘second wave’ of adaptation to North
American conditions, to current developments on the Pacific Rim, which I have represented as
the ‘third wave’ of adaptation and change. I have also reported recent developments of a
theoretical nature in Asia and Africa, which suggest the possibility of cohousing being
adopted there to address general social dysfunction, as well as, instances of catastrophe and
need. These latest developments have not been foreseen by cohousing experts, who have
65 In a headlong rush to fulfil the ANC’s promise to provide a million houses in five years,
authorities have built thousands of identical 4m x 4m ‘houses’ that mimic Western suburban
dwelling patterns and the free-standing 'villas' of the affluent in South Africa. The open space
between them is useless for social purposes or child play.
66 A large proportion of children are born to single mothers and exist in 'matrifocal' households
where conjugal instability is replaced by a wider bond between siblings and relatives.
previously considered cohousing, a uniquely Western phenomenon. However, the extended
family tradition is common to almost all cultures, in one form or another. Furthermore,
societies everywhere, in almost all countries, are suffering the breakdown of traditional social
support networks. Cohousing has been able to adapt so spectacularly because its principles
are so simple and robust. The singular basis of cohousing is an intent to develop more
supportive, sharing and caring relationships between neighbours. Cohousing carries no other
ideology, credo or baggage. For this reason, it will increasingly become, through the twenty
first century, an important means of addressing social dysfunction and inducing positive
social change.
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Biography
Dr Graham Meltzer is a lecturer in architecture at the Queensland University of Technology,
Brisbane, Australia. His teaching and research focus upon social and environmental aspects of
architecture. He has published papers about cohousing in architectural journals and in
Communal Societies. Graham has lived many years in intentional communities including two
years on kibbutz and eight years on Australia’s largest commune. He has, more recently, lived
in Danish and American cohousing.
1.9 Utopia
Experiments in living Arrangements as Human Development
Strategies.
Dr. Richard Coon
Carroll College
Waukesha, WI 53186
USA
Prologue to a Narrative Explicating the Premises of the Theory
As a prologue to the narrative itself we would like to point out a parallel between some of the
notions being set forth by postmodern theorists and certain writers on cultural creativity,
specifically cultural writers such as Daniel Quinn, Thom Hartmann and Jean Liedloff. Many
postmodernists are articulating a model which holds that there is not one universal culturally
grounded truth. That is, they assert the relativity of all culturally grounded linguistic
narratives. (We want to make it clear that we are not asserting there is no underlying facticity
relative to the Universe itself however).
Rather, we are asserting that humans transform the direct experience of this facticity into a
culturally grounded narrative which is fundamentally linked to the speaker as the narrative
agency and to the contingencies which shape the perspective of the speaker. Cultural critics
such as Quinn and Hartmann are arguing from a similar point of view with regard to the
normative manifestations of culture as well. They assert there is no one right way to live.
That is, they are arguing, based on their understanding of earlier cultures, that there is no
universally proper culture or social system which is best for all humans. This paper will draw
upon the insights of both of these perspectives in articulating the legitimating narrative
underpinning the theoretical proposal expressed herein.
*Since we are supporting this thesis based on some of the assertions of post modernism we
feel it appropriate to note that this particular narrative does not proclaim an absolute truth
vested in this story but simply avers that the description is based on evidence which is
considered consensually valid by members of a growing group of scholars examining the
human-environment relationship.
A Supportive Narrative Underpinning the Axiomatic model
One of the fundamental premises of this thesis is that many individuals in the contemporary
world are exhibiting negative, even pathological outcomes related to the psycho-physical
context of their lives. Researchers in the area of evolutionary psychology, as well as many
cultural critics, have begun to suggest that the conditions of modern consumer society are
deleterious to various aspects of the human condition (Coon, 1997; Hughes, 2000).
Nesse and Berridge suggest that "the mismatch between our bodies and our modern
environments is a major cause of behavioral and medical problems (Science, Oct. 3. 1997, p.
64). Humans are an organic outcome of a long and varied natural organic event and we are now
creating conditions which our bio-psychological makeup is poorly suited for. "(O)ur present
set of institutionaized life practices act quite the opposite to creating wellbeing; this system
and it's respective normative matrix acts to dull and alienate the individual..." (coon, 1997,
p.1) This feeling of ennui appears to be directly related to our way of life. Humans evolved in
small closely knit groups. In fact, Quinn (1999) asserts that the "natural" condition of the
human is the tribe. He suggests that the tribe is to the human as the pod is to the whale. We
concur with this estimation and hence, believe that many of the negative manifestations of the
modern world can be amieliorated by returning to some form of institutionalized and
intentional small group cohabitation.
Bellah and his colleagues, in their book "The Good Society" (1991) state that humans live
their lives through institutions. What they mean by this is that humans, due to the fact that
they do not have a well articulated set of instincts, have their behavior shaped and directed by
the normative, value matrix expressed in their culture. The form and content of these
institutions gives expression to certain manners of acting and thinking which accord with the
core system properties of the culture they are in. A significant aspect of this is that in many
respects, contemporary institutionalized normative structures are more suited to serving the
properties of the economic system than they are to serving the needs of humans. Here is
where the mismatch takes place or as the saying goes, this is where the rubber hits the road.
The discipline of sociology suggests that much of human life is shaped by forces outside of
the individual. Hence, if we are to remediate this situation of mismatch in the lives of many of
the people who are exhibiting these pathological outcomes, we will need to reconfigure the
institutional context of human life for many of us. Many believe that one of the models we
can use to help us understand what some more optimal behavior patterns might be is to
examine primal societies to see if we can determine which aspects of these evolutionarily
primary groups are pertinent to human well being. Institutions can be understood as one
aspect of human psycho-physical programming. These routinized behavioral trajectories
create habituated behavior patterns which express themselves both in the form of overt
behavioral activity and in the form of physiological patterns.
For instance, it appears that the social environment can have an important impact on
something as significant as how the brain is wired. Studies indicate that the human brain is
more plastic than we had originally thought and that our physiology is actually fairly
responsive to the external environment. Thus, it is becoming apparent that adults, as well as
children, are powerfully effected by the interactive patterns they find themselves in.
By speaking of institutions as psycho-physical programming patterns we begin to articulate a
social narrative which highlights the self creative agency humans can express in their own
lives. If we begin to see (signify) the world as a complex array of psycho-physical
programming patterns we are more able to cultivate a cultural narrative which places humans
at the heart of consciously directed cultural evolution. This sort of conceptual model
fits quite well with the general evolutionary theoretical narrative. Certainly the idea that
natural conditions play a significant role in shaping the expression of the natural world is not a
new insight. The important element added in this more self directed cultural evolutionary
model is the intentionality of the human agency.
We are suggesting that humans can overtly play a role in creating life contexts which are
intentionally formulated so as to nurture the expression of certain types of psycho-behavioral
complexes. There is obviously a strong correlation between this model and that of Skinnarian
operant conditioning (see for ex. "Waldon Two"). A significant difference, however, is that
we propose that the model to be used to guide the actual fabrication of these social pathways
be grounded in primary indigenous cultures and insights drawn from ecology. In both of these
cases the models are grounded in nature.
Also, we are not saying that we can change peoples behavioral patterns simply by placing
them in a different social context, although this is probably true to some extent. What we are
saying is that for people who are predisposed to wanting to change, by consciously
configuring living environments which help support and direct such change, these individuals
will reap positive psycho physical benefits and that children born into such environments
will find them to be as "natural" as do children born into any unintentional culture today. The
difference being, children of communities of choice will experience a much different set of
molding patterns which give shape to their lives.
We are not asserting that merely through the process of conscious choice humans can
control the environment so much that they will be able to completely determine the outcome
of the human condition. What we are suggesting is that the human condition is shaped by
various external stimuli and that with conscious intent humans can participate in the
self directive molding of at least some portion of their expression. Again, this is not
necessarily new. Many cultures in the past have created institutionalized behavior patterns
which sought to mold individuals in certain ways. For example, many Native American tribes
had young men carry out practices which would help prepare them for the difficulty of life on
the North American plains.
Various socialization practices have been used by all cultures to intentionally shape the
consciousness of the members of the society. This takes place in modern society every
minute of every day. Advertising is a good example of just such an overt practice. The only
real difference is that most people don't think of this as an institutionalized socialization
practice. Some form of social learning model, many times in the form of overt operant
conditioning, is used in socializing children in all societies as well. People simply tend not to
narrate the practices they use with the same rhetoric as does the academic behavior model.
Some insights which seem to be emerging are from the examination of such groups are first,
the size of the group appears to make a difference with regard to feelings of intimacy and
connection and second, that security is more associated with the group itself than it is with
any sort of monetary or material system.
A Simple Theoretical Model Supporting Psycho-Physical Programming
This paper sought to examine some variables which may be of import relative to what
seems to be an increasing state of ennui in many members of our society. Recent research in
evolutionary psychology suggests a mismatch between present social conditions and human
psycho-physical well being. The general matrix of contemporary social life (especially as
regards the cultural matrix associated with capitalistic market economy ) appears to be
problematic for the optimal expression of psychological and physical well being for numerous
individuals. One of the dilemmas this information presents is that changing institutions at the
macro level is extremely difficult. However, individuals can begin to thoughtfully articulate
micro level lifestyle changes so as to see if certain patterns of living are more fulfilling for
them personally. A prolegomenon to a theory and certain parameters useful in
experimentation with this theory are listed below.
Primary Premise: Humans are evolutionarily oriented to living in small primary groups.
(Based on the work of Daniel Quinn [esp. his latest work, Beyond Civilization: Humanity's
Next Great Adventure , and insights drawn from the discipline of sociology.)
Premise Two: Life in mass society is psycho-physiologically problematic for a large
segment of the human population. (As a derivative of the primary premise and the Mismatch
hypothesis [eg., see Science, Oct. 3. 1997; Garrette Hughs, "Mismatch and Pathology in
Contemporary Life." presented at the Minnesota and Wisconsin sociological Association
conference, Oct, 2000].)
Premise Three: Institutions (conventions or patterns for living) play a very significant role
in creating feelings of personal fulfillment or ennui. (Grounded in the work of Robert Bellah
et. al. [regarding the notion that humans live their lives through institutions] and sociology in
general.)
Premise four: Institutions are human creations, not direct derivatives of instinctive or
innate behavioral patterns and hence, can be changed to suit human needs.
Theorem 1: Institutions of mass society are causally related to psychophysiological
problems such as ennui and these problems can be modified by reconfiguring institutions to
reflect the evolutionary parameters humans were conditioned/shaped by.
Theorem 2: By reconfiguring our present living arrangements and familial
institutions to more closely reflect our tribal (small primary groups) heritage, humans will
function better psycho-physiologically.
Experimental factors
What factors should be dealt with in setting up experimental fictive kin group models?
Factor One: Size. For primary groups, social research seems to suggest that groups larger
than ten present problems. Hence, ten or fewer adults would appear to be appropriate as
Affinity Groups. What size is too small and can larger groups function as well?
Factor Two: Institutional form. How should these small groups organize themselves? Are
diads significant aspects of human well being? In other words, is monogamy a primal/natural
characteristic of human relationships or is it more an artifact of larger institutional
arrangements such as capitalism, as Frederick Engels, (The Origin of the Family, Private
Property, and the State) and others have suggested?
Factor Two A: What role does economic arrangement play in these small fictive kin
groups? (Edward Goldsmith asserts that "economic development causes our social as well as
our physical environment to diverge from the optimum." [The Way , iii, 1998])
Factor Three: Physical form. The old adage that form follows function has been challenged
recently. As with many associations, writers are now suggesting that this is a two way street.
What impact does form have on human function. That is, what role does the design of the
physical world (in this case housing) have on the psycho-physical well being of humans?
What role can Bau-Biologie (Communities, #99, 1998) and Feng Shui play in
creating more satisfying human relationships?
Factor Four: Ideology. How important is it for members of such small fictive kin groups to
share values and perspectives? Is similarity or diversity better? How can we measure this?
We believe these to be experimental questions which can be examined by actually creating
such groups and seeing if they work to ameliorate problems in living for those participating in
them. A confounding factor might be that people making such a transition may suffer a form
of culture shock for some time and thus the positive advantages might be obscured by the
problems of readjustment.
Other aspects relative to experimenting with living arrangements:
Although size of the group is an important variable, how people relate to and align with
each other is also important. The goal or reason for coming together is also probably
important. The communality vs personal property conventions of the members may also be
significant.
One way of conceptualizing a fictive kin group (FKG) would be to create a group that
worked to optimize each members human potential. One might think of this as a human
development group. The Bhuddist Sangha might also represent a goal for a FKG. This would
be a group of people who supported each other in some process -- eg., following the Pagan
path.
Commitment is an important aspect of any FKG and significantly, commitment would be
to the FKG not to any person in particular in the group. Also, any progeny would be
identified through the mother and her line.
The above represents some guidelines or questions proposed to help people think about
taking control of their lives and constructing a more human oriented life.
A Deeper Interogation of Some of the Components of the Theory and Narrative
As was pointed out earlier, this statement is not intended to signify there is no facticity.
We do believe that there is an order of being more fundamental than the human cultural world.
For ex., we do hold to the facticity of the biological realm. The statement attributed to
Descartes regarding the mind/matter relationship (I think therefore I am) holds in the
cognitive/human realm but does not negate the facticity of the even more primary Universe as
the ground of being. The prepotent process of physical evolution, which plays it self out in
the context of the Universe, does have a facticity itself -- evolution is, even without the
human mind to attend to it.
What this means is that there are bio-physical facts which are "real" and do need to be
attended to . Human existence is a multiplex expression of various types of energy, each
having properties of its own. Thus, there seems to be both a fundamental ground of being
which is related to the unfolding physical universe and a process of being which is related to a
psycho-cognitive social realm. When interogating human existence we need to look at both
levels; the physically factual and the conceptually actual.
Another interesting point to raise is that if one pierces the hegemony of culture and begins
to perceive the particular fundamental code which gives shape to the psycho-social realm as
part of a deep cultural critique, the absolute nature of cultural depictions begins to fade. If an
individual reaches a state of rejecting the core meaning properties of a socio-cultural system
the manifest social expressions of that system will also be called into question. That is, if an
individual (or individuals) identifies with the postmodern position of the relative nature of
cultural knowledge and behavioral conventions, the potential for those expressions to
dominate his/her narrative lose much of their power. If, further, these core expressions of
meaning are seen as problematic for the human and more than human project, the active
cultural critic may feel the rejection of said meaning patterns is necessary. A natural
extrapolation of such a rejection of meaning patterns is the rejections of the conventions of
the socio-cultural system itself as the artifacts of that meaning pattern.
The point of this monograph is to argue that after rejecting a particular cultural meaning
system one is not, at that point, completely with mooring. If we are to create positive
behavioral patterns for human systems we can look to the deep informing patterns of natural
systems as well as many indigenous cultures. As was pointed out above, we believe there is a
fundamental facticity to the bio-physical universe and examining/interogating the underlying
patterns of the natural world and the human cultural patterns of primary peoples we can
begin the process of formulating patterns of human expression which serve to create and
maintain health and well being for all life systems.
Again, asserting the notion that there are multiple ways of living which will create positive
outcomes, we believe that there is ample evidence to suggest that the core meaning system of
contemporary societies which are founded upon the conventions of market economies is less
than optimal regarding creating a system of life which nurtures health and well being in the
human and more than human world.
Further, based on the belief that we can find ways which are in harmony with nature, we feel
that groups of people who set out to practice this process of "reading the scriptures" of Earth
and learning from indigenous cultures can become important cultural pioneers. One of the
teachings of nature is that diversity is a positive strategy in forming viable systems. Hence,
we believe that there will be a variety of living arrangements which will work to serve humans
and be less destructive of the natural order. As in nature, we will have to learn to be tolerant
of the various ways humans devise to meet their needs.
References
Bellah, Robert et. al. 1991. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
Coon, Richard. 1997. Health, Wellness and the Tao of Deep Ecology: A Remedial
Ecospiritual Approach. Guest address given at Stout University
.
Engels, Frederick. 1892. The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State. New
York: International Publishers.
Goldsmith, Edward. 1993. The Way: An Ecological World-view. Boston: Shambhala.
Hughes, Garrette. 2000. Mismatch and Pathology in Contemporary Life. Paper presented at
the combined meetings of the Minnesota and Wisconsin sociological Associations.
Nesse, Randolph and Kent Berridge. Psychoactive Drug Use in
Evolutionary Perspective. Science vol. 278, 3 October: p.64
.
Quinn, Daniel. 1999. Beyond Civilization: Humanity's Next Great Adventure. New York:
Harmony Books.
Skinner, B. F. 1976. Walden Two. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall.
Wilde, Panther and Tricia McKenzie. 1998. What is Bau-Biologie & How Can You Use It?
Communities Journal of Cooperative Living, summer issue #99.
The Kibbutz: Awakening from Utopia
Daniel Gavron
Abstract
The Israeli kibbutz movement has changed and adapted throughout the 90 years of its
existence, but the past decade has seen much more radical changes. Following an economic
breakdown affecting a majority of the kibbutzim, the values of cooperation and equality are
being largely abandoned. Because there are significant differences in the responses of
individual kibbutzim to the crisis, it was resolved to examine ten kibbutzim, illustrative of the
different approaches being implemented.
Degania, the first kibbutz, is moving cautiously to change many features of its way of life.
Givat Brenner, a large kibbutz is in the process of implementing a number of radical changes.
Hasollelim has made a drastic break with egalitarianism, introducing a "normal" wage
structure. Neve Yam, is currently administered by an appointed committee, after experiencing
economic collapse. Hatzerim, a successful traditional kibbutz, has not made any basic
changes, but the equally successful Maagan Michael has implemented a "virtual" revolution.
Kfar Ruppin has adopted a capitalist structure, while retaining (for the time being) a relatively
egalitarian life style. Ein Tzurim, a religious kibbutz, is not immune to the changes sweeping
the kibbutz movement. Tamuz, an urban commune, and Samar in the far south, are two
attempts, mainly by kibbutz-raised children, to improve the traditional kibbutz structure.
The conclusion is that, for the most part, today’s kibbutz members no longer accept the
egalitarian and communal ideals of the founding generation. While some communal forms will
continue to exist, as they do in most modern societies, a strong, influential Kibbutz
Movement will no longer be a central feature of Israeli society. That society developed as a
uniquely cooperative enterprise, with a powerful communal movement at its core. In recent
years, reflecting world trends, it has become less idealistic and more individualistic.
The kibbutz was the creation of a certain time and set of circumstances; it has not been able to
survive the march of time and the concomitant changing conditions of its environment.
The story is told of two shoe salesmen who went to Africa at the beginning of the 20th
century. The first, from England, arrived, looked around him, and sent a wire back to his
English company that read:
"No one wearing shoes here. No prospects for business. Returning on the next boat."
Two weeks later, an American salesman arrived at the same location and drew his own
conclusions.
"No one wearing shoes here," he cabled back. "Unlimited opportunities for business. Send out
another dozen salesmen and get those machines running!"
I must confess that I felt a little like the English salesman, when I resolved to write a book
about the changes in the kibbutzim over the past decade or so. Although it was a kibbutz
member who originally suggested it, almost all my kibbutz friends told me I was mad to
undertake such a project. The changes, they intimated, were too comprehensive, wide-ranging,
various, and rapid.
"Which kibbutz will you write about?" they demanded to know. "And when? Yesterday,
tomorrow, next week, next year? It’s all changing all the time. Your book will be out of date
before it is written—let alone published!"
One person, however, encouraged me unreservedly: ICSA’s Executive Director, Professor
Yaacov Oved. Only Yaacov Oved behaved with the dynamism of the American salesman. He
said:
"It’s true that everything is changing rapidly: now is the time to write about it, while it’s all
happening. Go for it!"
I must pay tribute to Yaacov Oved, who gave me wonderful support and encouragement
from the start. He deserves credit for whatever virtues my book has, but must not be blamed
for its mistakes, nor does he bear any responsibility whatever for my conclusions—either
those in the book, or for anything I say here today.
At the same time I want to thank the many kibbutz members, scholars and consultants, who
(like him) gave me of their time, experience and knowledge. There may have been skepticism
about the feasibility of my project, but, once I started, nobody held back. There has been no
trace of academic or occupational jealousy, no sense whatever of "What are you doing in our
territory?" Simply a strong motivation—I would almost say compulsion—to cooperate.
I must apologize if I go beyond my book here—and indeed beyond my abstract. I feel I want
to carry matters forward a little bit. This is what journalists traditionally do.
Of course, this conference is for people living in communal societies, or for scholars of
communal life, and I am neither. In a way, I’m here under false pretences, so I intend to make
a virtue out of necessity and be presumptuous. In our country, we call it hutzpah.
I am saying that the kibbutz saga is over, and I’m going to argue that the kibbutz members the kibbutzniks - were sometimes wrong in their methods of running their societies, and
sometimes they were right. They had their successes and they also had their failures.
The Israeli kibbutz movement has suffered a brutal awakening, and most of the country’s
kibbutzim have been forced to cope with the hard reality of a free market capitalist society.
The routes they are choosing are many and varied.
There are kibbutzim that have collapsed. In my sample, Neve Yam on the Mediterranean
coast became insolvent. The bank to which they owed money and the kibbutz movement
nominated a committee to run it. Neve Yam is no longer a kibbutz because it no longer runs
itself. It is turning into an ordinary village. The members may still be partners in the relatively
successful recreation branch, but I do not think there will be much trace of the original
communal idea in a few more years.
There are those which have abandoned egalitarianism to a greater or lesser degree. My example
is Hasollelim in Lower Galilee. Following a two-year-long process of intensive discussions,
they totally restructured their social framework. Today the members receive wages, just as in
every other sector of Israeli society. Some kibbutzim have introduced marginal wage
differentials. Hasollelim went the whole hog, but there is still a fair amount of mutual
assistance and social responsibility, with the children being looked after by the community
through their army service and beyond.
There are kibbutzim which have taken out insurance policies, laying out what should happen,
if the kibbutz breaks up. Maagan Michael, on the coast below Neve Yam has created a
cooperative. Perhaps I should explain here that the kibbutz traditionally was not a
cooperative. It was based totally on trust. A new member could join, and after a year’s trial be
accepted as an equal with the veterans in every way. This is now changed. At Maagan
Michael, veterans — those with a minimum of thirty years’ membership — have a hundred
percent share in the kibbutz. Newcomers acquire their share at the rate of three and a third
percent per annum. So far this is only on paper, leading some to dub Maagan Michael’s
enterprise as "a virtual cooperative." A member who played a leading part in working out the
new framework prefers the term, "divorce settlement." If there is a divorce — if the kibbutz
decides to break up — the division of the spoils will be according to the percentage of shares
of each member.
And then there is Kfar Ruppin, a veteran kibbutz of pioneers from Germany and
Czechoslovakia in the Jordan valley. Kfar Ruppin has reconstituted itself (like Amana in the
United States in the 1930s) as a capitalist enterprise in almost every sense of the word. The
members own unequal numbers of shares, depending on their seniority, family size, and the
amount of money they may have paid in from their wartime compensation money. These
shares will, in five years from now, be tradable — although there are upper and lower limits
on how many shares a member may own. When I visited Kfar Ruppin, I was reminded of the
old anarchist joke about capitalism being the exploitation of man by man, and socialism being
exactly the opposite. This was because, at that time, actual daily life of Kfar Ruppin and the
social reality were almost unchanged. This is no longer so. Since my book was published,
considerable wage differentials have been introduced there. Today it is difficult to call Kfar
Ruppin a kibbutz.
There are a number of kibbutzim that remain traditional in every sense of the word. Hatzerim
in the Negev desert is my example. Hatzerim, with its Netafim drip irrigatione industry that
has a turn-over of a quarter of a billion dollars a year, is a success story. The cynics say that
Hatzerim "can afford" socialism. There are also some smaller, idealistic communes of the sort
that exist in most advanced countries.
If you want more details of the different paths being chosen by various kibbutzim, may I refer
you to my book. However, since my book was published, I have spoken to a number of
kibbutz audiences and to individual kibbutzniks. I have had some further thoughts, some of
which I would like to share with you today.
1] The Kibbutz is finished — at least for now. In my view, the kibbutz was unique among
communal societies in history in being a central pillar of a national society. Kibbutzniks were
a small minority of the population of the Jewish community of Palestine up to 1948 and of
the State of Israel thereafter, but they exercised an influence totally disproportionate to their
number. They led the society, set its norms, personified its better self. Even when they
became less central, they still exerted an enormous influence on the national psyche.
The existence of the few communal societies that will undoubtedly remain in Israel does not
mean that the powerful, successful kibbutz movement, which was a central part of Israeli
society, still exists.
2] The kibbutz’s greatest success was its adaptability. The fact that there was — in Martin
Buber’s phrase — "no blueprint." This enabled it to adapt to changing conditions and survive
as an egalitarian, communal, cooperative society for almost a century.
In the final instance, it was not sufficiently adaptable, which is why it is on the road to
disappearing. I won’t say that the kibbutz "failed." A revolutionary experiment that
succeeded for nearly a hundred years cannot be called a failure!
3] The kibbutz has — yet again — adapted, but this time it has adapted into something else.
A kibbutz with unequal incomes, or shares that can be traded, is not a kibbutz.
4] In general terms, I think it may be said that the kibbutz is disappearing because of the
influence exerted by the surrounding society. Developments in Israel, and the world at large,
simply left it behind. As I write in my book, its centrality in society was its strength, but it
also contained the seeds of its own destruction. If influenced society, but was — in its turn —
influenced by it.
5] Despite this, one can still speculate where things went wrong, one can point to failures,
which sometimes overwhelmed the successes. The outstanding failure was the failure to give
the woman member anything like true fulfillment. The outstanding success was to convert
what were basically youth camps at the outset into successful multigenerational societies.
Kibbutz education has a mixed record, with notable success in a general way, but failure in its
aspiration to pass on the values to the younger generations.
Here I will not attempt a list of all the successes and the failures, but my basic conclusion —
my bottom line — is that the kibbutz tried for too much. The attempt to achieve absolute
equality — from each according to his ability, to each according to his need — was doomed
from the start.
Not only was it always impossible. It became increasingly impossible as time went on. As
needs expanded, they became impossible to quantify or identify — let alone meet.
Moshe Berechman, a veteran member of Kibbutz Maagan Michael has suggested an
alternative more fitting to the modern age: "From each according to his ability to each
according to his preferences." With due appreciation to Moshe’s intelligence, which to my
mind is formidable, I think that even this is impossible to achieve.
In the 1930s, Enzo Sereni, one of the founders of Givat Brenner, another of "my" kibbutzim,
suggested that the members be given equal sums of money and be free to do as they wished.
This horrified the kibbutz purists, who felt that it was a betrayal of the ideal of equality
according to need. Indeed it was. It was also common sense.
Around that time, a member was treated (free-of-charge) for toothache by a relative in town
who was a dentist. A general meeting of Givat Brenner denounced this "inequality." Sereni,
the pragmatist, demurred. "We do not need equality of toothache!" he declared at the meeting.
The kibbutzniks, in my view, should have taken this lesson to heart. They did not need
equality of toothache — nor did they need pure equality at all. The principle of equality of
need, which is very fine and very just, means that you have to decide how to determine need.
In a small, family-sized commune, a consensus might be reached on this. In a larger
community it necessitates a plethora of committees.
Henry Near has written that, even in its early years, Givat Brenner had twenty different
committees! A quarter of the members served on one or more committees. There were
committees for everything, from education and housing, to culture and smoking. In due course,
this was the pattern in almost every kibbutz, with mostly negative results.
Over the years, the kibbutzim lost some of their most dynamic, talented, hard-working, and
ambitious members. Some, no doubt, were simply unsuited to the life for various personal
reasons, others were incapable of subordinating their talents to any communal society. But, in
my view, quite a number felt suffocated — even strangled — by the huge number of
committees with which they had to deal, if they wanted to get anything done.
This is very clear in Naama Sabar’s study, "Kibbutz LA." Kibbutz children, living in Los
Angeles—and doing very well there — described to her how they ran their army units
effectively and efficiently, only to return to the kibbutz, and to find they needed to "elicit the
approval of half a dozen committees if they wanted to sneeze."
I am not suggesting that a kibbutz — or any communal society — should be run like an army
unit. God forbid! But these respondents also told Sabar how they ran their Los Angeles
businesses with a freedom and efficiency unthinkable on a kibbutz. A little less interference in
the individual’s work might well have kept many more of these positive members in place,
remaining in their kibbutzim.
What I am saying to members of communal societies is: "Lower your expectations, limit your
ambitions, don’t aspire to perfection, don’t aim at the stars, but shoot for the moon first. A
measure of equality, and a degree of cooperation is plenty to be getting on with."
I would like to end, if I may, on a personal note. More years ago than I care to admit, I was
setting out from England, with my wife and young child, to live on a kibbutz in Israel. Among
those taking leave of us, was my cousin Michel Treisman, then a young teacher of
psychology at Oxford, today a leading scholar in the field of perception.
We explained to Dr Treisman, our fears of communal child rearing, our doubts as to whether
we would be able to render up two-year-old Etan to the babies’ house of the kibbutz.
"Why should you, then?" he inquired.
"What do you mean?" we asked him.
"Keep Etan at home."
"We can’t do that!" we protested.
"Why not?" he demanded.
We shook our heads pityingly. Michel Treisman might be a brilliant psychologist, but he had
no understanding of communal life!
In point of fact, we arrived at Kibbutz Amiad, and faced the anticipated crisis. The
psychologist from the neighboring kibbutz advised us to keep the child at home for the time
being. Our kibbutz comrades were tolerant and understanding to an impressive degree. They
did not pressure us, and they allowed us to keep the child at home, without setting a timelimit.
But the system was the system. In the final analysis, either Etan had to live in the babies’
house, or we had to leave. We left.
Today, looking back, I am convinced that my cousin was right. I have no quarrel with my
comrades in Amiad, whose children, themselves raised in babies’ houses, voted in due course
to abolish them and bring the kids home to sleep with their parents.
I am not making the point that the baby house was a mistake — although I believe it was, and
for at least a decade every kibbutz baby has slept at home. What I want to stress here is the
concept of flexibility, the principle that, as far as possible, each member of a communal society
should be free to determine his or her own lifestyle, where it doesn’t clash with the basic
values of equality and cooperation — and maybe even sometimes when it does.
That is the reason why I looked forward so eagerly to Dr Meltzer’s address in the plenary
this morning on the subject of cohousing. Possibly, a less ambitious, less demanding, more
flexible attempt at living together, will leave more scope for the individual and make communal
life more bearable.
I hope so, because, although I am convinced that the kibbutz search for utopia is over, the
quest is not finished. I refuse to believe that cooperative living is "against human nature." If
cooperation was really against human nature, as so many people triumphantly tell us today,
humankind would never have survived the mammoth. In today’s world, as in the stone age, I
believe that cooperation is not merely an option. I am convinced that it is an imperative.
All communal experiments have taught us valuable lessons. The kibbutz has certainly been a
marvelous laboratory for teaching human behavior. Now it is the turn of other forms of
communal living to take up the torch relinquished by the kibbutz. The search for utopia will
continue and it should continue. Possibly, though, the time has come to move more modestly
and more cautiously.
The Battle for Influence Between Communes and ‘Gated’
Communities:
An Australian Perspective
David Sprigg
Introduction
Contemporary social construction of how we live in Australia is about adapting to a
perplexing physical world of global forces. Diversity of ‘citizenship’ exists out of various
emerging concepts of ‘community’ through the interaction of individuals to locate a
functional lifestyle freedom relative to perceptions of ideals and values, together with
resources associated with their respective social circumstance. Recently the geographer David
Harvey determined: "Any project to revitalise utopianism needs to consider how and with
what consequences it has worked as both a constructive and destructive force for change in
our historical geography" (Harvey, 2000:159). This is a paper about conflicting influence to
community development and spirit within the city of Melbourne, where one form of
utopianism is at distinct odds with another. It is a battle of influence between utopias of neoliberalism and communalism.
Melbourne inner and outer suburban development of housing estates continues at a very high
rate to accommodate a growing population base, forcing renewed scrutiny over the issue of
private and public ‘space’. An extreme aspect of development under the guise of ‘new
urbanism’ is the stealth-like increase in what has been termed "gated" or "fortress"
communities (these terms will be explained in detail shortly). A further re-emerging in
popularity among some young people is the collective arrangement of living with others in
urban communal settings. These two forms of housing offer a stark contrast to each other in
lifestyle approaches within the fluid social conditions of Victoria’s capital city. They provide
some insight as to the future social consequences of what is unravelling before our eyes in
Melbourne.
The purpose here is to explore the social issues at stake by these opposing trends in urban
lifestyle. This paper will begin briefly by charting the terrain of the ‘battle-front’ between
communes and gated communities. This will be followed by an account of some gated
communities as they exist in Melbourne, then in turn a reflection of metropolitan communes
will be provided including a thumbnail sketch of two youth urban commune case study
examples. The final section will demonstrate that the urban commune is a fringe alternative to
mainstream community with a civic consciousness that new urbanism development in
particular has much to learn from. The argument presented here is that the gated/fortress
community by nature has far-reaching social implications, and is worthy of protest and
pressure for change to re-set the Australian civil society model.
Poles of influence over space
As individuals, personalised location in relation to the society around us is an important
concept of self-identity. This became evident to some ‘Melburnians’ early in adult life during
the counter-culture events of the 1960s-1970s that included those involved in communal life
experimentations. The term ‘space’ became a popular term to express identity and physical
location of the ‘self’ in relation to the world about. (It is more than likely that many of us
who flirted with the hippie lifestyle of that period may have been considered by the more
‘straight’ or conservative elements of this particular generation as being "lost in space"). It is
interesting that such a term re-emerges in a more formal account of sociological reflections
over recent years. The term ‘space’ – alongside such terms as ‘spatiality’, ‘time’ and
‘temporal’ – are frequently used expressions for the new sociological considerations of
deciphering ‘modernity’ by significant writers such as Anthony Giddens (1991, 1998), David
Harvey (2000), Manuel Castells (1997), and Alberto Melucci (1996). Time and space
reorganisation is escalating by new global dimensions of consumerism and capital
accumulation aided by advances in communication technology. Globalisation, reminds
Giddens, "concerns the intersection of presence and absence, the interlacing of social events
and social relations ‘at distance’ with local contextualities" (1991:21). The local context point
of space for the individual in a maze of dominant cultural aspirations for capital accumulation
and consumerism exudes lifestyle variations according to social characteristics and
circumstance. What then becomes a point of interest is the identity of the ‘self’ for individuals
and their social networks in this space condition who, for whatever reasons, are not engaging
the full potential of the dominant culture.
Communes and gated communities fall outside the housing forms generally found within
dominant culture settings as a conscious lifestyle choice by the respective inhabitants. Each of
these micro-communities is in a relationship with space that deviates from that of their
broader neighbourhood. The contrast between the two forms of lifestyle settings sharpens the
focus on what is a social identity demarcation within the current Australian community.
Of course, communes in Australia are not new. There has been a rich tradition of communal
experimentation during most of its post-white settlement history, and some excellent accounts
of this can be found in the works produced by writers such as Bill Metcalf (1995), Peter Cock
(1974, 1979, 1995) and Margaret Munro-Clarke (1986). Talking with Melbourne people
associated with contemporary urban communes, it appears that currently there is resurgence
in urban-based communal living, particularly among young people. More than just shared
accommodation arrangements with a group of young people, this ‘new wave’ of communal
living comes with ‘intention’ through a range of pooled resources and lifestyle structures
under the same roof, similar in many ways to that of the 1970s.
‘Gated’ or ‘fortress’ communities, on the other hand, are a relatively new concept in
Australia, and just as there are various forms of communes, likewise there are similar
variations in aspects of this ‘new urbanism’ phenomenon. For the purpose of this paper the
term ‘gated’ is preferred as a more appropriate term overall, rather than ‘fortress’, to describe
a range of these new urbanite intentional communities. As the term implies, gates form a
feature of these new communities in the perimeter structures enclosing space containing
exclusive urban development. In the United States there are in some cases urban community
estates with added security measures of ribbon wire to produce a ‘fortress’ appearance. It is
understood no such measures exist at this point in time in Australia.
The Australian gated community phenomenon
Gated communities as such have coincided with the exuberance of the bubble economy since
the 1980s. Modelled on developments elsewhere, particularly in the United States, these new
communities cater for those concerned with security protection and separatism from the
surrounding environment – a form of exclusiveness for those with a penchant for such
lifestyle that requires higher than average economic wealth ratios to sustain. Appearing in the
late 1980s first on the Gold Coast of Queensland (the ‘Florida/California’ region of Australia)
reportedly through a development known as Sanctuary Cove, similar ventures in Melbourne
began to take shape in the late 1990s (Gibson, 2000).
The housing clusters, or enclaves, with their compound-like fences and gateways filter access
to their inner-sanctified neighbourhoods. Some extremes of gated communities can take the
form of resort-style estates consisting of streets and waterways with an array of security
devices and guard personnel for ‘protection’ purposes. Some have exclusive facilities such as
‘designer’ 18-link golf courses, tennis clubs, gymnasiums and the like. Smaller scale versions
take the form of estate developments akin to town houses but with added shielded private
street-scaped areas designed to keep the unwanted out of a privatised public space. Some of
the smaller scaled versions can appear almost camouflaged against the surrounds by their
appearance, such as one of several recently investigated for the purpose of this paper in a
Melbourne inner-city suburb which features an underground car park for some 70 vehicles.
Whatever the scale, they are designed to provide private space beyond those to be found in a
block of flats and town houses; they are estates with restricted access.
Gated community developments have attracted some concern and criticism for what they
represent in urban development. From American standpoints of condemnation they have
caught the eye of urban commentators such as Mike Davis (1990), Edward Blakely and Mary
Gail Snyder (1995), and David Harvey (2000). Indeed, Harvey refers to the formation of the
urban gated communities and suburban "privatopias" as where the "rich form ghettos of
affluence (their ‘bourgeois utopias’) and undermine concepts of citizenship, social belonging,
and mutual support" (2000:148-150). However, it appears in Australia there is little on offer
in scrutinised commentary apart from certain newspaper articles and isolated voices of dissent
towards the gated phenomenon. At least two federal politicians, the Australian Labor Party’s
Duncan Kerr and Graham West, have raised concern about the relatively unchecked nature of
these developments. Also, certain criminologists have publicly raised concerns for the gated
community models on the grounds of potential negative social consequences. One such
criminologist based in Canberra, Professor David Biles (who also has a Masters degree in
sociology) was reported in a television program as believing that "these fortress estates are
havens for neurotics". When I spoke to Biles earlier this year he said the term ‘neurotics’ was
perhaps a bit stronger than he had intended to convey, nevertheless, he did feel that the overemphasis on security and separation from mainstream community could impact significantly
upon public resources for policing and other community services. Similarly, questions are
being asked about broader social ramifications in academia. An RMIT University urban
planning specialist, associate professor Michael Buxton, was recently reported to have argued
that: "cities will only become safer if houses face the street and people interact with the
street, all these sorts of developments do is privatise public space" (Szego, 2000). Gated
communities are seen by some to demonstrate wealth orientated anti-social tendencies
towards mainstream community.
Of course, gated communities are indeed ‘communities’ composed of residents involved in
modes of cooperation for mutual support and entertainment. The people who share the
lifestyles offered by these estates have social extension possibilities between themselves, not
unlike one would find in a range of specific dwelling types such as student housing clusters,
military accommodation areas, elderly retirement villages, the usual suburban and country
town areas, and so forth. Apart from recreational facilities that provide communal engagement
between the gated-community inhabitants, accessible committees and forums deal with
maintenance and other day-to-day upkeep issues. In their own way they may provide a
positive sense of community to their residents.
The main objection with gated communities is the separation they represent as an elite
community sector, and the consequences this may have overall on society. The level of
congeniality and tolerance to be found within the notion of ‘community spirit’ is considered
to be at risk by the exclusivity of gated communities. One recent Sydney Morning Herald
newspaper report rightly noted the gated community to be about estates of specific lifestyle
and not about social diversity (Allenby, 2001). From a traditional Australian feeling towards
egalitarianism about itself, it would be reasonable to assume that this situation would grate
with some sectors of the population. Such a cherished value – regardless of whether the
egalitarian notion may be a myth or not – appears to be under threat by an ostentatious social
form of elitism. With the ever increasing wealth gap developing between the ‘haves’ and the
‘have nots’, the gated community amplifies a growing social divide of inequality and
reinforces the notion of power disparity.
The commune revisitation and case studies
There has been a resurgence of youth communes in the Melbourne area over recent years, and
their popularity appears to be increasing. Such intentional communities were of course
popular in the early 1970s, where noted Australian ‘elder’ of communes Peter Cock observed
that there were "about 30 of these" in and around Melbourne (1974:635). By all accounts
from those involved in the local commune movement approached for this investigation, this
figure could possibly be matched currently after what appears to have been a popularity
decline in youth communes throughout the 1980s and 1990s.
The two case studies chosen for this paper, although both loosely falling under the umbrella
of ‘youth communes’ are indeed very different forms in comparison with each other. The first
of these I shall refer to as the ‘Bowling-Green Group’, as it is a collective of young people
who have taken occupancy of a former lawn bowls club. The second case study shall be
referred to as the ‘Warehouse Group’, as the young people in this commune have converted a
former warehouse-come arts-studio into a shared living space. While both the Bowling-Green
group and the Warehouse group have many similarities, the main differences lie in the day-today activities, structure and sense of purpose within them.
The Bowling-Green group is generally anarchistic in outlook and has approximately 10 young
people as a core group, with a further ‘floating’ population of at times up to 30 others who
regularly come and go daily. There are no children directly involved in this commune. There is
a celebration of freedom in self-expression to be found within the group, and among their
numbers are student dropouts, budding performing and visual artists, and others living on
supplementary welfare support. (Very much like many hippie communes of the of the
seventies, except earrings and studs have replaced flowers and beads as accessories.) By their
unconventional and somewhat sporadic lifestyle, these young people are sometimes referred
to as ‘feral’ in relation to mainstream community by ‘outsiders’, although they themselves do
not necessarily share this description as being appropriate because of the relative settled
nature of their lifestyle in a fixed accommodation setting compared with more nomadic young
people.
Established in early 2000, a small core group happened to locate the abandoned bowling-green
property available for rental through a real estate agent. At the time this former community
facility had been sold to private hands for commercial development. The new owner was
happy to rent the property to a group of young people on a temporary measure until a more
developed proposal for commercial development took shape. The young tenants then
modelled aspects of their shared living space on an operation that began approximately 5
years earlier also alternatively utilising a former lawn bowls facility in another Melbourne
suburb. Unlike their ‘older sibling’ model, a shorter life for this operation of a former lawn
bowls facility is anticipated by the tenants as the lease on the property will probably not be
renewed come this November to enable the owners to begin their commercial development
program. Nevertheless, the extensive land area that once featured manicured lawns set at
‘billiard table level’ in flatness for several bowling rinks has been transferred partly into
organic garden beds and composting sites. The large clubhouse building once featuring change
rooms, a bar and extensive dining room area has been transformed into a cohabitation complex
of personal and common living quarters.
In the relatively short life span of this commune, a major shift has occurred in the focus of the
group. When first established, the group of young people were reasonably entrepreneurial in
setting up a business venture on site. The bar was re-opened with a liquor licence, and the
huge dining area with its polished timber floors devoid of tables and chairs was transformed
into a youth culture music venue. A stronger political awareness eventually supplanted the
original lackadaisical lifestyle approach of the group, and the entrepreneurial side of
operations shifted accordingly. The ‘freeloading’ actions of associates and other visitors
became tolerated less than previously. They now regard themselves as having a political and
creative focus with, as one of the commune folk referred to, "strong ethics environmentally
and socially". The bar licence has not been renewed since it last lapsed. Performing and visual
art activities are still conducted as money raising ventures, but the core difference now
through the transformation of membership has been away from solely personal income
generation by these activities towards fund raising for a range of benefits, including
environmental projects and protest movements.
The lifestyle aspirations of the group are simply to live on a shared basis with limited rules so
that they may "be self-motivated and to be really respectful to each other without setting
limitations on each other". It was only earlier this year that a roster system for general
kitchen and maintenance chores was introduced, but in the main ‘good-will’ and mutual
respect is seen to be the over-arching principle that binds the group.
The group members are pro-active on a number of levels individually and collectively in regard
to the social extensions of their existence. Non-passive associations with activist
organizations such as Friends of the Earth (FOE), and Autonomous Web of Liberation
(AWOL) are a focus. (The latter organization assisting protest mobilisation under banners
such as S11 and M1 in Melbourne during the past 12 months to bring attention to
perceptions of world trade implications on the environment and disparity in standards of
living.)
The group consciously engages with the broader community through a number of activities.
Apart from the various performances and market days open to the general public, they also
use their composting activities as a medium to interact more closely with the immediate
surrounding community. Regular visits are made to local shopkeepers – particularly those
running restaurants, cafes, hairdressers and pubs – to collect food scraps and other
composting materials for their garden. Through this cash free service the Bowling-Green
group have not only built a mutual service rapport with local traders, but also have generated
interest from the local community generally into their activities. Notices attached to the
former lawn bowls building and perimeter fence, together with leaflet drops throughout the
local neighbourhood are also mediums used by the group to promote their activities.
Conscious that the surrounding community population base is largely an older generation by
comparison to themselves, the Bowling-Green members attempt to reassure the community
that they are not a group of "rat-bags" posing potential risk of harm or disturbance to the
broader community.
It was in March 1999 that the Warehouse Group was established, and their sense of purpose
is well defined. Four young adults formed the group with the claimed purpose "to take a few
more steps away from the ‘system’, but in a sustainable way". It is now a group of 7 people
including one child under 2 years old, sharing a specific set of guiding principles. Unlike the
Bowling-Green group, these beliefs have been documented and are referenced accordingly at
weekly meetings. Initially they had a 13-page document that spelt out a general code of
operation, which has since been refined to 3 pages. They have regular contact with a commune
mentor figure in Glen Ochre of Commonground fame to aid them with aspects of visionary
evolution of their group. To this end, the Warehouse people are indeed very intentional in
their outlook, and proclaim themselves through leaflets and other means as being "an innercity, high-density, permaculture-based intentional community practising non-violence and
consensus".
The Warehouse people consciously promote sharing, while engaging as individuals in
economic support activities ranging from professional occupations to supplementary
parenting allowance from the state. Between the members they have a combined motor vehicle
pool of 2 cars available on loan to others outside their commune, as an endeavour to both
minimise fuel orientated personal costs and impact on the environment. Parenting is an issue
for the one child permanently in their midst, and another 6-year old with half-shared
arrangements for parent access, has the parents as prime care providers with the other adult
members of the commune providing supplementary parenting functions. They are particularly
discerning about which foods they eat and which household products they use for sanitary
and cleaning purposes in accord with environmental considerations. One mealtime each week
is accompanied by the group meeting as the main medium for members to maintain a fluid
contact with each other. These meetings can cover a range of issues from basic housekeeping
affairs to attention on formulating specific projects by their membership base.
Like the Bowling-Green commune, the Warehouse group also actively embrace promotion of
their commune and lifestyle to the broader community. Indeed, one of their members has the
role of being specifically responsible for their public relations. Apart from dealing with
newspaper and journal coverage, the members also avail themselves to conduct workshops on
a ‘fee according to capacity to pay’ service in conflict resolution and mediation to the broader
community. They combine with other like-minded households in their neighbourhood for
shared arrangements in obtaining food produce (either purchased or self-grown), and other
collective purchasing power activities. Fences have been removed that once separated the
warehouse property from bordering properties on a consensual basis with their neighbours to
consolidate common access; an indication of the influence and acceptance that has evolved by
their presence.
The lines of battle
Sense of community is altering in Australia as disparity in prosperity lurches further into
unevenness amongst its people. It is a nation, instilled in the resounding echo of the former
British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s "there is no alternative" adjustment to the new
power bases engaging global economic focus, rightly condemned by Harvey (2000) and others.
In turn, it seems that active citizenship participation is losing the zeal of democracy, as the
nation-state struggles with the socio-economic forces evolving from the technologically
inclined broadening international economy. A widening gap in the share of national wealth is
just one symptom of the problem generated by these developments. Ulrich Beck (19920
points to the inequality of ‘risk burden’ between the situations of individuals in a society,
where for those experiencing relative poverty are greatly exposed to risk factors in lifestyle as
opposed to those with wealth. Given that this is an apparent growing pressure in our society,
as persistent unacceptable unemployment levels and precarious income circumstances among
the unskilled testify, national civility between and within individualisation of lifestyles, if not
social classes, is likely to be tested in the near future.
The gated community developments suggest somewhat symbolically the change in the nature
of the Australian society today as a ‘risk’ nation in full flight. They do this by the very two
prime functions the structures of gates and fences are designed to do; firstly, they provide a
sense of security for those who decide to live in such settings; and secondly, they provide an
expansive form of privacy arrangements with exclusive ‘public’ space. This in turn indicates
two clear issues. The first being that in some quarters there is a sense of unresolved
vulnerability about security within the community, resulting in stronger measures than ever
taken before in matters of personal protection. The second issue is the consolidation of one
social group identity outwardly demonstrating less tolerance to others. This form of
separation of ‘them’ and ‘us’ is an indication that the once celebrated egalitarianism belief by
the Australian people themselves has definitely slipped into mythology.
Contemporary gated communities are not a new idea generally, as mediaeval fortresses and
‘white’ compounds in apartheid South Africa have demonstrated, and they are not the only
forms of physical social separation of their type in Australia today. Ecologically focussed
cooperatives, for example, demonstrate a clustered housing model where tendencies can lean
to a secluded conditioned lifestyle. There is one ecological village in the central region of
Victoria, consisting of 11 shareholdings, where one of the originators of the development has
even contemplated a guardhouse construction at the entrance to this isolated rural housing
collective. (At this point in time the guardhouse has not been constructed). The only
difference this rural ‘ecological-development’ has over the urban gated-development, apart
from the obvious geographical location circumstances, is the scope afforded to their idealistic
isolationist utopianism. The ecological village in this instance has a self-sufficient outlook
capitalising on resources within the confines of their location across a secluded 128-hectare
valley blessed in natural splendour seemingly far away from a lifestyle of urban materialism.
On the other hand, the ‘urban gated utopias’ are totems of a shaped economic existence that
reflects both individualism and materialism separate from their surrounds. It remains to be
seen whether or not the ecological village will succumb to the same forces influential to the
ideals of their urban separatist cousins.
‘Fear’ is gripping the social construct of the modern society, and it is more than a fear of
inevitable change that inflicts most ageing members of society attempting to come to terms
with alterations to their physicality and familiarity of lifestyle habits. For an Australian
national radio program Edward Blakely noted that there are three levels of fear about
community aspirations to be found; the first relates to a diminishing neighbourhood relativity
of lifestyle expectation, the second is related to a change in the ‘neighbourhood complexion’ of
race, and the third is personal injury. According to Blakely, lifestyle interests embracing
materialism is the critical reason behind popularity of the gated community, where the
identity of ‘self’ is competitively relative with the aspiring neighbourhood. An orchestrated
elitism coping with fear in a new era of urbanised enclaves.
The difference between the Bowling-Green and Warehouse commune examples referred to
here and the gated community models offers a contrast in the coming to terms with the
evolving Australian society. While the ‘Bowling-Green’ and the ‘Warehouse’ folk function in
separate ways with each other, it is the distinct interacting links with their respective
neighbourhoods that is the prominent common feature. This situation is at odds with the
gated community model with the exclusive zoned private/public space that markedly
separates their inhabitants of individual households from the surrounding neighbourhood. The
commune households have their own means of countering excesses in consumerism and
managing the ‘small footprint’ notion of their impact on the worldly environment, which
visibly contrasts with the constructed opulent environment of the gated community. Living in
segregation from others is not uncommon, but the elite symbolism represented by gated
community structures as a product of inequality, conjures a characteristic of civil society that
deserves scrutiny.
The way one is able to function and relate to others provides a measure in the status of ethical
citizenship. The fluidity in personal engagement with the world demonstrated by the
members of the commune examples is an active citizenship function of sharing, tolerance and
goodwill. It is an act of being a ‘deep citizen’, which Paul Barry Clarke relates as a
participation of consciousness where "the identity of self and the identity of others is corelated and co-creative; while also opening up the possibility of both engagement in and
enchantment with the world" (1996:6). The lead taken in broader community networking by
the ‘Bowling-Green’ and the ‘Warehouse’ communes does set an example of active open
citizenship that is seemingly being surrendered within the perimeters of modern
neighbourhood movements such as those demonstrated by gated communities.
Where and how we live are important matters of consciousness, however, the time and space
afforded for certain citizenship demonstration models is not necessarily responsive for
broader social betterment. Harvey considers for example, that the gated communities of
Baltimore have much in common with aspects of the ecological movement in regard to space
ownership (see 2000:238-9). He believes that these "privatopias" exclude the opportunity to
break from a system that they attempt to remove themselves; indeed, they only serve to
sustain the faults over-arching the society they belong to (2000:239). There comes a point
where re-defined truths and realities occur through abstract dimensions in time and space by
such separatism that fails mainstream community. Social actualisation potential is impeded by
the lack of direct active citizenship engagement. Justifications for depressive aspects of civil
life such as wealth inequality distortions are by-passed through such conditions. It is an
example of the reflexive condition of modernisation alluded to by Ulrich Beck (1992:19).
There is much the nation states like Australia can learn from the models provided in
communal life from the two case studies referred to here. Apart from the necessary developed
levels of communication that are required between members to maintain a deep functional
experience of sharing their lives with each other, they also demonstrate a collective ‘spirit of
community’ of a type which is a desirable weave to the fabric of society. The practice of
sharing the nurturing and survival ends of existence beyond the confines of the nuclear family
has all but disappeared in the modern information technology age. The lifestyle has been
promoted to the Australian government before, as Jocelyn Pixley in her important work
Citizenship and Employment relates, where during the early 1980s the Hawke Government
momentarily entertained active communal experience based on an idea seeded previously
during the Whitlam Government era of the mid-1970s (1993:125-163). The emphasis then
was towards confronting unusually high levels of unemployment at that time, particularly
among young people. The emphasis this time worthy of contemplation by governments is the
depth of active community engagement that happens between members of communes such as
those referred here – a more than useful tool in fostering positive community spirit for social
actualisation in a global sphere.
Conclusion
Aspects of the commune movement have a character about them that are worth reminding
governments about in urban planning matters. The openness of the youth urban commune in
the pro-active engagement with their respective neighbourhoods is a model in itself for deep
citizen relations, now at risk of falling away in other areas of community. This is an important
consideration in setting about to correct a goodly part of the detrimental impact inequality
presents through social separatism. In the long run, social cohesion will depend on it.
References
Allenby, G., (2001), ‘Estates of play’, Sydney Morning Herald, 15 March.
‘Arts Today’, (1999), ABC Radio National, 1 September.
Beck, U., (1992), Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity, translated by M. Ritter, Sage,
London.
Blakely, E., and Snyder, M.G., (1995), ‘Divided we fall: gated and walled communities in the
United States’, in N. Ellin (ed.) Architecture of Fear, Princeton Architectural Press, New
York, pp. 85-100.
Castells, M., (1997), The Information Age: Economy, Society and Culture, Volume I & III,
2nd edition, Blackwell, Oxford.
Clarke, P.B., (1996), Deep Citizenship, Pluto Press, London.
Cock, P., (1974), ‘Alternative lifestyles; theory and practice’, in D. Edgar (ed.) Social Change
in Australia: Readings in sociology, Cheshire, Melbourne, pp. 630-642.
Cock, P., (1979), Alternative Australia: Communities of the future? Quartet Books,
Melbourne.
Cock, P., (1995), ‘From communal theory to eco-spiritual practice’, in W. Metcalf (ed.) From
Utopian Dreaming to Communal Reality: Cooperative Lifestyles in Australia, UNSW Press,
Sydney, pp.186-193.
Davis, M., (1990), City of Quartz: Excavating the future in Los Angeles, Verso, London.
Giddens, A., (1998), The Third Way: The Renewal of Social Democracy, Polity Press,
Cambridge.
Harvey, D., (2000), Spaces of Hope, Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh.
Holmgren, D., (1996), ‘Fryers Forest Village’, Green Connections, September/October, Vol.2,
No.2, pp. 20-21.
Gibson, R., (2000), ‘Good fences make good neighbours’, The Age, Melbourne, 21 February.
Metcalf, W., (1995), ‘A brief history of communal experimentation in Australia’, in W.
Metcalf (ed.) From Utopian Dreaming to Communal Reality: Cooperative Lifestyles in
Australia, UNSW Press, Sydney, pp.14-40.
Melucci, A., (1996), The playing Self: Person and meaning in the planetary society, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge.
Munro-Clark, M., (1986), Communes in Rural Australia: The movement since 1970, Hale and
Iremonger, Sydney.
Pixley, J., (1993), Citizenship and Employment: Investigating Post-Industrial Options,
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Szego, J., (2000), ‘Debates on the gates hots up over lifestyles’, The Age, Melbourne, 13
May.
‘Today Tonight’, (2001), Channel 7, Sydney, 16 January.
1.10 Communal Sustainability
Obstacles to creating new neighbourhood communities' in the UK
Martin Field
Liverpool University, UK
This short paper puts forward the view that opportunities for new neigh6ourhood-based
communities in the UK are marginalized by the centralized structures governing community
and housing strategies and the use of state finances. Professionals have increasingly
monopolized resources for building and property development, either through an adherence to
a market -led property philosophy or to a centralised bureaucratic one. This has resulted in
housing and property schemes being biased towards Top-down' planning frameworks, with
little appreciation of how to support the real dynamics of emerging communities at a
neighborhood level.
Keen interest does exist for creating new `international communities; particularly where these
could create a mixture of property for sale and property for rent. Many community groups
are struggling, however, from a lack of the community development skills needed to organise
themselves and to challenge the prevailing statutory and strategic frameworks, and from an
inexperience in working collectively towards common goals. Where there has been recent
development of some innovative Cohousing or ecological communities these have resulted
principally from selective application of private enterprise limited to those households having
sufficient private funds to join as project members. The paper suggests ways to foster a more
sustainable `development dynamic' for aspiring community groups and argues that a new
vision is required within which proposals for new intentional communities could be
promoted, if they are to compete realistically for the resources necessary for property or
community development. In this way, opportunities can be harnessed to incorporate real
communal developments within modern urban 'masterplans' and other mainstream housing
settlements.
Introduction
The UK has a well-defined history of creating new communities and innovative neighborhood
environments over the past 150 years. The 19'" Century saw a number of substantial housing
developments by pioneering house-building co-operatives to fund and build properties for
their members and families. That century also saw the founding of other socialist and 'utopian'
communities with egalitarian and 'non-exploitative' lifestyles, plus the philanthropic townplanning of visionary Victorian industrialists that has left such enduring suburban designs
across the many townscapes that expanded in response to industrial growth. Such urban
planning was also a clear herald of the 'Garden Cities' movement of the early 20'" Century that
came to influence a wide range of urban and suburban residential developments [cf. Coates
(2001)]. The success of this momentum led in no small part to the later massive development
of state-funded 'council housing' in towns and villages throughout the UK. It also nurtured the
construction of the 'New Towns' program to provide new urban and suburban identities in
which to accommodate, and at times resettle, the nation's sprawling population.
Explicit in the 'utopian' and socialist aspirations of the 19~"~ and early 20~'Centuries
communities, [cf. Hardy (2001 )], and implicit in some of the modern initiatives, has been a
desire to share local environments and neighborhoods, beyond merely living on the same street
or in the same building. It is almost a cliché nowadays to refer to the 1960s and 1970s, and its
reaction against the overt state regulation of housing resources, as a period that stands out for
the substantial growth in the number of 'communes' and other egalitarian 'squatters' groups
[see Neville (1974)]. Less evident is the perennial interest in all kinds of 'collective' living
arrangements from a constant number of new communities and communal groups, and
documented by the various directories of UK 'communal living' groups and organizations [see
Alternative Communities (1980); Diggers & Dreamers (1999)]. Besides the bodies quoted in
the most recent Directory, there are a host of other unlisted groups interested in forming new
Cohousing communities or creating new housing co-operatives, or already in existence and just
quietly carrying on with their day-to-day affairs. Indeed the Editors of 'Diggers & Dreamers'
have always made clear that their knowledge of groups and their aspirations is unlikely ever to
be a complete national record of all the 'communally' minded bodies in the UK.
On the one hand, therefore,. an argument could be made that there is a clear tradition of UK
groups establishing various, 'intentional' communal initiatives and through which they have
shaped homes and neighborhoods. Even the irony that the early building co-operatives have
metamorphosed into the national and international banking concerns of the modem day
'building societies' should not detract from accepting the historical success of the 'self-help'
neighborhood and its clear appeal for those looking for collective solutions to common needs.
On the other hand, however, it could also be argued that the overall background context in
which such individual self-help examples have achieved their local success has been one in
which major house building initiatives have been increasingly dominated by an overall
centralist emphasis in government planning and regulation. Indeed, the extent of the State's
management of land development and house building, and the way this has been influenced by
late-20'" Century 'market forces', has now turned what we innocently label as 'housing' into a
pseudonym for a sprawling, multi-faceted industry with complex bureaucracies and farreaching financial effects. The extent to which this 'industry' now services the design,
development and provision of new housing at the start of the 21s'Century may seem
understandable within a 'market-oriented' modern European economy - `housing' is focused in
large part upon the production of the accommodation units needed to satisfy habitation needs.
A significant part of the national economy is geared towards stimulating demand for such
units and satisfying the consumption of them. By its centralised nature, however, this explicit
focus upon the production and distribution of housing units is making the 'communal' scenario
increasingly difficult to achieve. The prevailing conditions of a market geared to supply preformed solutions offer declining opportunities for people to shape their own local housing
provisions.
It will be argued below that the nature of this extensive regulatory and market-oriented
process has created significant constraints for aspiring 'intentional communities' in the UK.
The relative 'monopolisation' of resources by 'mainstream' interests will be held to lack
appropriate responses for `sustainable' communal lifestyles, although it does have impact on
the required 'skills base' of groups seeking collective arrangements. It will be suggested that
such groups need to look within mainstream approaches to urban growth and new
neighbourhoods for the opportunities to promote alternative 'community' options as a viable
residential design.
The' monopolisation'' of house building resources.
The opportunities that in reality determine what options are open to groups seeking to
establish new 'communities' are intimately entwined with the general opportunities that exist
for securing the necessary resources to make any residential development a success -namely
land, buildings, finances, and people. Of these it is particularly the first three that are bound
up with the manner in which 'housing' has become an 'industry', dominated by professional
disciplines and other `interest groups', and regulated by statutory institutions. The result is
that 'housing' is now both an activity carried out by, and a commodity provided by, a wide
range of public and private sector bodies on behalf of others, and almost entirely removed
from notions of people providing for themselves. The extent of this 'industrial' process needs
to be set out in more detail.
There is an intricate policy background in the UK, increasingly dictated by central
government, that prescribes the numbers of new dwellings it is believed will be necessary to
house the nation's population in a coming period. This policy framework tends to work on
ten-year projections, and very formal requirements for the numbers of new units of
accommodation are set for each region and sub-region of the UK. These formal requirements
then become the key context for regional bodies to prepare Regional Plans (and sub-regional
Plans) that must secure the allocation of sufficient land for the housing development within
the Local Plans prepared by local authorities. Other formal governmental 'codes of guidance'
demand that a suitably diverse range of dwellings will be provided to meet a range of local
needs, and that these needs are appropriately identified via appropriate local research and
formal 'assessments'. This whole prescriptive approach is then the basis used to confirm what
sorts of housing development will be appropriate for different urban and rural areas - and
particularly what size of settlements, or designs for house sizes, or mixture of tenures and
households.
The actual permission for new house building remains in the hands of local authorities. It is
however an area of modern political life that has witnessed a dramatic shift from what was
once the position earlier in the previous century. Where local authorities were once significant
housebuilders in their own right, they have been reduced in the current day to being part of
the mechanism that regulates how other bodies provide the new properties required to satisfy
the national policy. Most of this delivery and almost all of the house building is nowadays the
domain of the private sector, and this has adopted basic market-led property philosophies for
its assessment of any risk and profits associated with property development. Admittedly
there are plenty of 'development partnerships' that emerge in order to try and make influential
and binding links between the interests of the public sector with those of the private, and
thereby shape as much of new development as possible to suit the needs of a local area. It
could be argued, however, that the 'political economy' of the established status quo has put
the private sector firmly in the key role of deciding what it is prepared to do, and what it is
not prepared to do. The prevailing belief within contemporary UK society that private
ownership of property is something to which all people should aspire, reinforces the
acceptance that it should be the private sector that steers the production of that commodity.
It is therefore no surprise that it is the private sector that is also most informed or aware
about land and property that becomes available as sites for future development. Similarly it is
the private sector that seems so often best-placed to spend some resources (especially
finances) in order to compete for the acquisition of more.
It should be made clear at this point that there are still some public subsidies available for
house building. This will by necessity, however, involve close adherence to the national
policies and guidelines of key national bodies like the Housing Corporation and other local
Housing Associations that have an explicit responsibility 'to protect public investment'. This
has led to the creation of a further set of national arid regional policies, with regional 'themes'
and values, all applied to dictate the range and scope of subsidies towards new housing
provision. Such policies are also instrumental in setting the overall tone for the determination
of what housing needs may be 'outstanding', and what should be the focus of public resources
in the future. In particular quite prescriptive guidelines are laid down for the amount of funds
available for different sorts and sizes of accommodation, and for what sort of provision is
considered appropriate for different sizes of households. For example, it is currently
extremely difficult for a single-person household to be able to obtain any self-contained
dwelling provided through a public house building subsidy that is bigger than a `singlebedroom' sized dwelling (i.e. by definition, a flat). Yet if intentional community' groups are to
make some appeal for state-funded subsidy towards the cost of some or all of their plans, it is
precisely to this detailed regulatory system that they will need to address their claim. In effect
the will need to claim that the 'system' and its regulators should consider their plans above
other examples or instances of local 'need'.
While such 'public' bodies have a major control over the practical policies for the use of such
'public' grant, there is actually little 'public' opportunity to steer, amend or change those
policies. There is a cursory opportunity for comments on each yearly set of formal plans and
proposals, which is in theory open to responses from any individual. In practice, comment is
returned almost exclusively through the established channels of organisations connecting with
other organisations, and steering their responses through well-established systems within and
between trade and professional bodies. And the established organisations are certainly aware
that loud rejection of government plans could result in subtle reduction of the opportunities to
secure grant finance for further housing development - which for most housing bodies that
operate in the subsidised housing sector would spell disaster! In practice, there is no real
public ownership of any vision behind the policies for the use of public funds, nor of the
targets of intentions to which such funds will be applied. Neither is there any genuine public
ownership of a vision for how new residential areas could or should be created, nor the values
new housing developments could not reflect, nor for what support could be directed to the
establishment of a range of local communities. Even where there have been some innovative
developments of a more 'collective' neighbourhood nature over the years - such as for new
housing 'co-operatives' or 'selfbuild' organisations - the prevailing statutory frameworks have
sucked their momentum into rigid and bureaucratic procedures through which subsequent
applicants will be required to proceed. This now includes the requirement that the bureaucrats
have a deciding influence on who is classified as 'in need' and able to join such new communal
developments, and who may not.
It is no exaggeration to state that professionals and professional bodies so dominate the ways
in which land and house building resources are planned and utilised that they force the pattern
of future policies. Even where political strategies are being developed as a response to some of
this pattern there is no certainty that the end result will be any significant change in housing
for community-based interests. A recent central government policy has stated that where
housing developments are to be of a size over 25 dwellings, then 30% of them should be
provided as 'affordable housing' units - i.e. for sale or rent at below-market level prices. The
rationale is supposed to be that this will help more 'sustainable' communities emerge from a
mixture of tenures in the same neighbourhood. In practice there are constant attempts by and
challenges from housing developers in the private sector to try and avoid this obligation. This
is often by exploiting the pressures on local authorities to agree to new housing without such
a mix of tenure by the threat from the developers of abandoning their plans for any
development whatsoever. Elsewhere, other group-living schemes are being rejected because of
some perceived unsuitability for the area in which they would develop -local authorities have
not supported recent low-income low-impact schemes, even though they have been able to
demonstrate plenty of other local support for their aspirations. This has not been any simple
refusal to accept the ecological principles of such schemes - other ecological schemes in the
private sector have been successfully piloted during the same period. Rather it has been an
example of the 'top-down' planning frameworks rejecting spontaneous community aspirations
that the statutory planners have not been able to assimilate within their own views of what
they consider acceptable - i.e. sufficiently orthodox.
Understanding community 'sustainability'
It is therefore ironic that there has been a development of national policy within recent years
to stress that the goal of national planning and housing guidance ought to be geared towards
the establishment of 'sustainable communities'. It is not easy to determine on what basis any
real appreciation of what constitutes a 'community' is being made - let alone a 'sustainable'
one. Consultative documents from central government like the 1997 discussion paper
"Planning for the Communities of the Future" highlighted ideas for people-centred strategies
within local initiatives, however it failed to include a single mention of ideas for communities
or neighbourhoods of an 'intentional' nature. Rather it has seemed to hope that 'new'
communities will spontaneously come together and acquire a longevity and vibrancy of their
own simply through people being provided with decent housing, transport, schooling, and
employment opportunities in their locality. The focus of most current support for
'communities, is moreover not based upon the creation of new communities or
neighbourhoods - it is towards addressing disadvantaged and deprived areas, such as the
population of poorer inner city areas, or bleak housing estates on the edge of large towns and
cities. That is, towards helping existing communities knit together by invigorating local
democracy and creating a more durable social 'cohesion' - whatever the understanding of this
'social cohesion' might be. What does not seem present in any of this policy development is a
readiness or understanding for supporting the dynamics 'of emerging communities at a
neighbourhood level, especially in new areas of residential development.
In general, ideas for what constitutes 'sustainability' in a community rarely seem to look in
much detail at the interpersonal dynamics between a neighborhood’s residents, or their
collective local control and self-determination. Other conclusions are usually made in terms of
environmental and ecological issues, or in terms of energy uses - or even of the 'mixed housing
tenures' in suburban areas. and 'high density' and `mixed-use development' for city centres.
Current 'champions' of urban design even point to the blandness and uniformity of much
modern housing development being due to a lack of suitable combination of their aspirations
for higher urban density with other 'community-centred' designs. They seem to fail to
understand that it is as likely to be the scale of built development that will become an
obstruction to the development of vibrant and connected communities, as it is any poor
design quality in itself. The larger the residential development, so the greater the potential
anonymity of and distances between the people trying to create new identities in their new
surroundings.
The usual consideration of the concept of 'community' invoked to project household
composition and housing demand across the nation predominantly conceives of 'communities'
at the scale of hundreds or even thousands of households together. To this one-dimensional
view of 'community' ought to be add an understanding of the identity of communities at the
level of actual 'neighbourhoods', one that is based upon a practical understanding of
'communities' at a more intimate, interpersonal scale. This would more properly reflect the
scale of successful 'intentional communities', such as communes, or the collective Cohousing
neighbourhoods of Europe and North America. In other words, smaller-scale, more intimate
neighbourhood settings, with designs and characteristics that stem from a very close
involvement of the households that come to live in each locality, and with local facilities that
the area's residents are instrumental in creating for themselves.
Developing the 'skills base' of communal groups
As if the above monopolisation of resources by the established institutions was not enough in
itself, groups looking to establish new communal neighbourhoods in the UK are faced with
other shortcomings. These are bound up with an increasing impoverishment within general
society of any real awareness or skills for 'community development'. Participation in 'public
life' seems to be on a continual decrease, even where that participation has been no more than
>lo vote in municipal or national elections. There is substantial lack of awareness of political
decision-making structures at all levels - local, regional and national. This is compounded by a
lack of experience in taking part in groups or partnerships that might wish to challenge the
impact of those structures upon local life.
In order to gain the most out of what abilities a group may already have, they will need to
adopt a `business-minded' approach to their 'community' goal. Easier written than done in the
case of groups with no background in collective endeavors, however tasks that will help the
group progress their community project need to be clearly defined, along with recognizing the
value of adopting 'project management' techniques in order to attain them. Groups need also
to recognize the value of pragmatism, and there will be times for taking practical decisions,
even if they were not a group's most desired options, to help move their project forward. Too
many UK projects use up significant energies on rudimentary issues, like debating the kind of
legal identity they should adopt, and then allow their momentum to stall for lack of agreement
on what identity to choose, or in which geographical direction they should seek a site they
might occupy. Paradoxically, for the level of community activists in the UK has never been
huge, there is plenty of community-based experience about how to shape their own
organisation and conduct is available that groups can tap into. Some of the most relevant
advice does not even need to be the most recent [cf. Eno & Treanor (1982)]. It does
sometimes seem, however, as if new groups with no history of collaboration with other
bodies encourage themselves to feel that they must approach their problems as if no one has
ever solved them before. They do not learn enough from what has gone before them. Groups
will therefore need to challenge their own attitudes about their relative expertise and
inexpertise, and be ready to challenge members on their commitment to the group's stated
intentions, in order to secure a solid momentum for achieving the common project. Achieving
and maintaining a credible momentum is all-important, both to sustain the commitment and
belief of would-be members and for any formal or professional partners with whom a group
may liaise. If a group's endeavors appear to be fading away it will be likely to lose existing
members, and unlikely to attract new ones. The maintenance of such credibility does,
however, itself represent a demand on a group to take itself seriously and to have the clearsighted attitudes to promote its plan and its project in a thorough and efficient manner. This
may come through finding professional support and engaging the formal services of suitable
agents. Care must still be taken, however, that such contractual partnerships do not turn out
to be dominated by the attitudes of `expertise' on the part of the professionals or professional
bodies - the majority of whom may not be that experienced or sensitive in working with the
communal or the unorthodox! Groups will need to recognize the danger to them of neglecting
to properly manage their 'project managers'. They must therefore be assiduous in developing
the skills and the attitude to do this increasingly confidently and effectively. It will be not be
helpful for groups to simply assume that any formal 'partners' will do the best for them out of
a sense of altruism, although this can be a common response from people unused to engaging
agents to work on their projects.
And for the majority of groups that have managed to get their collective heads around such
internal organizational issues, there can be perhaps the biggest decision of all - namely what
kind of development is possible, and what range of issues or problems will that decision set
into motion? If a group seeks to create its community just through its own resources, will
those be sufficient to compete for the acquisition of land or buildings in which to build? For
groups without sufficient private finances, the intention to seek some state subsidy to cover
at least part of the total economics of their scheme's development will set demands in motion
of a different sort of competition.
A number of current UK groups are in this last position, seeking to combine private resources
with an appeal for some state funds, in order to develop cross-tenure communities with a
mixture of properties that could house those first members who have already come forward.
Such a collective endeavor could still include opportunities for 'ownership', even
opportunities for individual investment in properties. It is just that this could also be in the
context of jointly owning and managing an entire neighbourhood area and its facilities, rather
than being a focus only upon each individual household, in perpetual exclusion of any
consideration of what might also be in one's neighbours' interests. At least that is what they
offer elsewhere. It may be an unconscious indication of the minimal experience of group membership in the UK noted above, and a subsequent lack in group 'negotiation skills', to hear
one group's debate on whether a household putting its own money into an 'intentional
neighbourhood' property ought to have more say (votes) in the running of that neighbourhood
than a household than only pays a rent!
Even where some groups have had private resources to pay for a project on its final
development, it has not usually been sufficient in itself to secure all the means by which a
new community can be established. Three examples in recent, years of Cohousing and
ecologically self-sufficient neighbourhoods have all gained from access to sources of
entrepreneurial support or loan finance that will not be as available to the groups coming after
them. It is no wonder that for some groups the choice is made to acquire and share a single
larger building - although it may be that the overall lack of space will inevitably represent a
very big restriction on people's long-term interest in living in and sharing just the one building.
Promoting the viability of the 'community' option
In addition to the concerns raised above, a further point needs to be made on how the
mentality of the housing and planning professions' 'status quo' interferes with the possibilities
for 'community-minded' groups to develop their ideas. Namely the degree of professional
complacency that exists in maintaining the established procedures for identifying housing and
community 'needs' and arranging house production in terms of what 'individuals' need individual housing solutions for individual households. Even if those households occupy
property in a new development alongside other households, the prevailing approach is to plan
and provide for the accommodation of so many separate and distinct households. The
consequence of this established view on how to plan for new housing and neighbourhood
development is that ideas for significantly different neighbourhood development are seen as
unorthodox - such as deliberately providing for communal groups - and are on the receiving
end of enormous scepticism. Ideas for 'group living' schemes are usually met with the
response from professionals that "people do not really want to be part of groups" and are not
likely to be very successful at it, because modem social engagement has placed 'privacy' and
'separateness' above other interactions. Ideas for group schemes are therefore bound to
fragment and fall apart - although the holders of such views are rarely aware of the real level of
local interest in group ideas from local people, not least because the formal plans and policies
are not obliged to investigate that interest. The extent of cynicism that groups encounter can
routinely extend to accusations of self-interest and bias, that they are competing for scarce
local resources (such as public subsidy or a prized site). The role of the `professional'
regulators of the use of state resources has in fact become one of being 'gatekeepers' of access
to those resources. It is standard to hear within professional discussions the anxiety that the
arbitrators of public resources should not encourage ideas for future developments when they
cannot see how those ideas can be satisfied - the stock approach is that 'we should not raise
expectations'. It is no surprise that the consequence of this is actually to depress general
expectations that local housing and community provision could ever be that different from the
established orthodoxy of the present.
Community groups obviously need to challenge such professional pessimism with a clear
promotion of the kinds of community successes that do exist, and the sound reasons for such
success. Where any doubts are voiced that collective living schemes will not last, examples of
inspiring and sound 'blueprints' of community developments (such as styles of Cohousing),
should be used to challenge the naivete of the orthodox view and to promote the profile of
'intentional communities' in general. There are, moreover, many modern 'buzz-points' on
which such promotion could now be hung. Successful neighbourhood communities can
demonstrate that they offer social stability and a sense of local permanence; mutual support
between households; opportunities to mix households of more than one tenure; and all kinds
of vibrant neighbourhood management.
For supporters of 'intentional community' aspirations, existing formal policy-making
mechanisms need to be exploited to insert support for 'collective' principles that could
generate opportunities for championing local interests, if and when those interests emerge.
Ideas and support for new communities could feature within planning, design, and housing
frameworks in order to raise the profile of how such communal projects might establish
themselves and compete for resources or support. Suggestions have already come forward [cf.
Fiekl (2001 )] in terms of how to start the insertion of such values into a range of national and
local policies to encourage a greater identification of such interests. There is much that a
sympathetic 'policy infrastructure' could do to encourage groups to believe they would receive
support to shape future neighbourhood developments.
The above promotion of 'collective living' by groups and their supporters would be
significantly assisted to foster this 'development dynamic' through the following
consid~ations:
(a) There is a significant potential for a range of different kinds of neighbourhoods to be
included within the large 'masterplanning' designs for new urban and suburban residential
developments and new settlements being developed in many parts of the UK. For such
extensive planning exercises, it would be straightforward to include other ideas for 'sustainable
neighbourhoods' within their overall developments - in fact some of the design plans may
already have been drawn up in the hope that a more eventual development could lead to that
outcome! Proposals based upon clear principles of 'intentional' neighbourhoods could then
shape the evolution of different 'shared' neighbourhoods within the larger urban/suburban
development areas. This could foster a patchwork of discrete neighbourhood settings, with a
range of different shared spaces and facilities shaped by the preferences of self-identified
groups of households.
(b) The national policy that requires a percentage of 'affordable' dwellings to be created within
new housing areas should be seized as a lever by groups keen on acquiring land for a new
'intentional community'. Groups could offer themselves as an existent source of interest in
such property (i.e. as customers!), providing they would have the opportunity to help shape
it into a more collective nature. This could go a long way to allaying the anxieties of private
developers that the application of this policy in practice will only result in having to house
households who will have no real interest or commitment in the long-term well-being of that
new neighbourhood.
(c) The benefits and successes of 'intentional neighbourhoods' should be promoted as an
inclusion within the UK government's "Quality of Life" standards being put forward as
research indicators for evaluating 'sustainable development'. Examples of 'collective' or
'intentional' neighbourhoods should be explicitly detailed as descriptions of what
'sustainability' can represent at the inter-personal, grassroots level of actual neighbourhoods.
Final comments
It will be interesting to see what measures will be used to evaluate the success or impact of
the current UK government policy to create a new "Urban Renaissance". There is a real risk
that the blandness of many modem housing estates or residential areas will continue to create
the polarisation of affluent households from those with less resources or smaller incomes,
unless more communally-minded households are encouraged to contribute to the birth of ideas
for new neighbourhoods. Those already drawn to the prospect of investing their time and
energy into creating a supportive and shared neighbourhood environment could thereby be
directly involved in seeing that at least an element of modem residential development will be a
departure from the 'community sterility' of the recent past.
Policies to weave the opportunities for such 'intentional neighbourhoods' within the
development of wider residential and urban developments need not involve great difficulty or
cost, and it is quite feasible to weave many of them into a coherent 'policy infrastructure' that
can harness the modem 'enabling' functions of statutory authorities. It will, however, be
beholden upon aspiring 'intentional community' groups to review the skills required to adopt a
more business-like approach to their endeavors, and be firm in their search for the most
suitable partners to help them achieve their goals. This may require a degree of compromise
that was previously held to be unpalatable, however this need not be a one-way issue.
`Intentional community' groups have a great deal to offer modem urban and planning policies namely the prospect of a very real shortcut to the creation of the 'sustainable' community
those very policies are hoping could emerge from new residential developments. For that
reason alone, such groups ought to take the prospect of a role in delivering the
neighbourhoods of the future very seriously indeed.
Martin Field is currently Housing Policy and Development Manager with Leicester City
Council in the UK. His background includes work with Housing Associations, Co-operatives,
urban regeneration programmes, self build and Cohousing projects, plus living in a housing coop for five years. A Ph.D. is taking shape on intentional neighbourhood communities'.
E-mail : [email protected]
APPENDIX A.
UK definitions of key English terms
Affordable Housing :accommodation that is for sale or rent at prices deliberately lower than
those at the level of the 'open' private market.
Building Society: a lending institution that provides funds to buy or improve property.
Cohousing Community : a shared neighbourhood, where each household has a self contained
property, but all share other communal facilities
Commune : term given to a wide variety of shared living arrangements for a group of people
that is usually greater than 3 in number.
Housing Association : an organisation regulated by central government that provides low
cost and subsidised accommodation for households 'in need'
Housing Co-operative : an organisation regulated by central government that provides low
cost and subsidised accommodation for its own members.
Low-impact :building development carried out on explicit ecological principles to
minimise the adverse impact on the local environment.
Local Authority : the democratically elected body that governs a local area (town city.
County) and controls public services. (Also known as 'Councils').
Tenure :the different legal ways people may inhabit property - for example as owners, or
renters, or part-owners, or leaseholders, etc.
APPENDIX B.
Select chronological bibliography to `collective living' in late-20'" Century UK
Rigby A. (1974) Communes in Britain, Routledge Kegan Paul, London
Altemative Communities, The Teachers Community (1980), Bangor, Wales
Eno S & Treanor D (1982) The Collective Housing Handbook, Laurieston Hall Publications.
Scotland
Ospina J (1987) Housing Ourselves, Hilary Shipman, London
Birchall J. (1988) Building Communities, the Co-operative Way, Routledge Kegan Paul, UK
Ward C (1990) Talking Houses, Freedom Press, London
Fairlie 5. (1996) Low Impact Development, Jon Carpenter, Charlbury, England
Hall P & Ward C (1998) Sociable Cities, John Wiley & Sons, Chichester, England
Diggers & Dreamers - The Guide to Communal Living 2000-2001 (1999), D & D
Publications), London
Coates C. (2001 ) Utopia Britannica, D & D Publications, London
Field M (2001 ) "Policies to support the creation of new neighbourhood communities",
Proceedings. of the 'International Sustainable Development Research Conference Manchester, 2001', ERP Environment, Shipley, England
Hardy D (2001) Utopian England: Community Experiments 1900-1945, Spon Press, London
Does Communal Living Save Energy?
Horace Herring
The Open University, Milton Keynes, MK7 6AA, UK
Communal living - varying from the small urban commune to the large rural community- has
been put forward as an important component of sustainable development (Meltzer 1998;
Metcalf 2000). The rationale behind it being that the shared use of facilities will result in a
lower per capita use of energy and resources. This claim is backed up by surveys (dating from
the 1970s and 1980s) that show that per capita energy use by people living communally is
lower that the national average (Corr & MacLeod 1972; Trainer 1984; deGryse 1985).
However, these studies do not correct for income effects. People living in the survey
communities were generally young adults and/or students with below average income. Thus it
is not surprising that they had below average consumption, as it has been well demonstrated
from surveys of household energy consumption that energy and resource use is closely linked
to income (Noorman and Uiterkamp 1998).
This paper aims to test the hypothesis that communal living saves energy, i.e. that corrected
for income people living in communal situations have lower per capita energy consumption
than those living ordinarily. Or alternatively that those living communally spend a smaller %
of their income on energy services. It does this using a pilot study of the energy use and
income by members of the Redfield Community in England and compares the results with
those of conventional UK households.
Defining energy use
Surveys of the energy use by Dutch household (Noorman and Uiterkamp 1998) indicate that
less than half of individual energy use is in the form direct energy purchases (electricity, gas,
petrol), with the rest being in the energy content of goods and services purchased. It also
shows that there are definite economies of scale with increasing household size, which results
in lower energy and material use per capita. Thus it may be expected that, corrected for
income, communal dwellings do have a lower per capita heating energy use. However this
saving may be offset by the ownership of 'luxury' energy services, like swimming pools,
saunas, hot tubs etc which their communal living makes economically feasible.
One area where energy use may be higher is in travel. The 1970s surveys indicate a highly
mobile population with a high (%) expenditure on travel for recreation, social and 'political'
causes. Also many communal establishments are situated in rural areas, with poor public
transport facilities, necessitating the use of private transport, generally cars. Although car
sharing should be a key feature of communal life, early indications reveal that it has not been
successful, due to the difficulty in co-ordinating school, work and leisure trips in our society
which requires flexible lifestyle patterns.
Thus rural communal life may require a far higher energy use for travel, due to its isolation
than conventional life in urban areas. Furthermore communal living means being part of a large
social network, with ample opportunities for national and international travel.
Is the energy saving 'cultural' rather than 'physical
One hypothesis I would like to put forward is that communal living acts as a brake on
individualist material aspirations, and the communal ethos makes its inhabitants voluntarily
accept a lower income, which (indirectly) reduces their energy consumption. Thus communal
living is an income reducing, rather than an energy reducing, arrangement. Thus I expect overall
for people living communally to have a lower than average income; they are prepared to
sacrifice income for social benefits. However it could be argued that they live communally
because they have a below average income, and that the only way to achieve a better 'standard
of living' is through shared facilities; they are prepared to sacrifice individual benefits
(autonomy, privacy etc) for income.
If communal living is income reducing then it can be a means of energy conservation, that is
voluntarily reducing energy consumption through foregoing income or practising 'voluntary
simplicity' or 'downsizing'. As such it can then be considered as a solution to sustainable
development, based on the idea of 'limits to growth'.
Redfield Community
The Redfield Community is set in one of the most prosperous areas of England. Although
their average (per capita) income is just 20% below the UK average, by comparison their
‘standard of living’ or material consumption is far below that of their neighbours and work
colleagues. Their community of about 20 people inhabits a late 19th century country house,
with a floor area of about 2000 m2, set in extensive grounds.
This old and large building is difficult to heat. Gas central heating provides background heating
which is supplemented by wood stoves and electric heaters in people’s rooms. This results in
a much higher per capita (domestic) energy use, but only a slightly higher cost per person.
This is because Redfield is able to exploit its ‘economy of scale’ to purchase electricity and
gas at a much cheaper rate than most UK households. It is also able to purchase wood locally
very cheaply. Table 1 below compares the energy use and cost of (domestic) energy at
Redfield compared to UK people with similar incomes (Quintile 4 from the UK Family
Expenditure Survey 1998-99)
Table 1: Redfield v Average Per Capita Domestic Energy Use
Energy Cost, £/ week
Energy Use MJ/ week
Redfield
Quintile 4
Diff
Redfield Quintile 4
Gas
£ 1.92
£ 2.16
-11%
Gas
629
486
Elect
£ 3.60
£ 2.58
40%
Elect
201
129
Other
£ 0.12
£ 0.33
-62%
Other
132
91
TOTAL
£ 5.65
£ 5.07
11%
TOTAL
962
705
Source: Redfield consumption data, 1998; Family Expenditure Survey 199-99.
Diff
30%
56%
45%
36%
Inhabitants of Redfield each have about 90 square metres of floorspace, over twice the UK
average, so while energy use per capita is over a third higher than average, energy use per unit
of floor area is only half the UK average. Large rooms and low indoor temperatures are traded
for small rooms with high temperatures.
Transport Use
Only 6 of the 15 adults at Redfield own a car. As a result there is much car sharing and use of
public transport: the bus to local towns and the train or coach to nearby large cities, like
London or Birmingham. Also more significantly, only 3 adults went by plane in the last year.
Table 2 below compares the energy use and cost of transport at Redfield compared to UK
people with similar incomes (Quintile 4 from the UK Family Expenditure Survey 1997/1999).
Table 2: Redfield v Average Per Capita Transport Energy Use
Energy Cost, £/ week
Energy Use MJ/ week
Redfield
Quintile 4
Diff
Redfield Quintile 4 Diff
Petrol
Train
Bus
Air
Total
£ 3.31
£ 1.36
£ 0.51
£ 0.54
£ 5.71
£ 3.71
£ 0.19
£ 0.56
£ 1.08
£ 5.54
-11%
627%
-10%
-50%
3%
Petrol
Train
Bus
Air
Total
164
22
13
62
261
184
3
12
125
324
-11%
654%
10%
-50%
-19%
Petrol and bus use is about average; train use much higher due to commuting and leisure trips
to cities, while air use is about half the average. While total transport energy use is 20% lower
than average, total cost is average due to the high cost (per kilometre) of train travel compared
to air travel. People at Redfield, unlike their UK neighbours, do not take their annual holiday
overseas but prefer to visit other communities, friends and relatives within Britain. Avoiding
air travel leads to large energy savings.
Total Energy use
About 9% of income at Redfield is spent on energy, very typical of people with that level of
income. However total use is about 20% higher, due to domestic energy use being a third
higher (caused by living in a very large house). Furthermore there is the energy content of the
goods and services one purchases, and this is found to be closely linked to income levels- the
more you earn the more you purchase and hence the greater your energy consumption.
The calculation of the energy content of goods, like food, housing, appliances, and clothes,
and of services like recreation, education and health is very difficult but has been attempted
for the Netherlands. In their book ‘Green Households’ Klaus Noorman and Ton Uiterkamp
estimate that for the average household the energy content of goods and services purchased is
slightly more than the energy use purchased directly (for gas, electricity, petrol). Also that
total energy consumption of non-energy purchases is strongly correlated to income, and that
the energy content per £ purchased does not vary significantly between different types of
expenditure.
Assuming that UK expenditure patterns are similar to the Netherlands (and using a suitable
exchange rate) it is possible to estimate the energy consumption in the purchase of goods and
services in the UK. Table 3 shows estimated energy consumption per capita for Redfield, and
for average UK and Netherlands households.
Table 3: Redfield v Average UK and Dutch Household Per Capita Energy Use, GJ per
Year
Redfield
UK
Netherlands
Petrol
9
14
9
Heating
40
30
25
Electricity
10
7
11
Energy
59
51
45
Non-energy
42
54
50
TOTAL
101
105
95
Source: Noorman, & Uiterkamp, 1998, Table 3.1 for 2.45 person per household in the
Netherlands.
Thus for Redfield, their below average incomes lead to lower energy consumption for nonenergy purchases than the UK average. This goes some way to compensate for their higher
consumption in energy purchases. This is the reverse situation of Dutch households, where
low energy purchases, due to low heating use (and perhaps small houses), is overcome by
higher incomes and consequent higher non-energy purchases.
Comparison with other Communes Studies
The only other surveys of energy use in communes were in the USA in the 1970s by Corr &
MacLeod, and in Australia in 1980s by deGryse (1985). The survey for the USA was for a
group of urban communes in Minneapolis in the USA, the high values for heating indicate
their severe winters while high petrol use indicates the high fuel consumption (low km per
litre) of US cars at that time. The survey for Australia was for a remote rural community,
where a mild climate leads to low heating use. Also most of the heating was by wood collected
by 4 wheel drive vehicles – hence perhaps the high petrol use. Interestingly the values for
public transport (train/bus and air) are very similar to Redfield.
Table 4: Comparing Communes: USA, Australia, UK
Energy Use GJ/capita/ year
USA 1970s
Australia 1980s
Heating
51
20
Electricity
9
2
Petrol
40
16
Train/bus
1
Air
2
TOTAL
101
41
Redfield 1990s
40
10
9
2
3
64
The energy use figures for the USA and Australia communes are far lower than the average for
their country, at least a third lower. This difference has been used to point out the energy
saving advantages of communal living (Metcalf 2000). However without knowing the income
or other characteristics of these communities it is impossible to assert that they are any
different from other households having similar incomes (like pensioners) or living in similar
locations. Communal living may be of no significance.
Environmental impact of communal living
Communal living, through the sharing of resources, is widely believed to be a way to reduce
ones environmental impact upon the Earth. This lessened impact is frequently a stated goal of
communities and to be achieved through energy efficiency, recycling and use of renewable
fuels. In a questionnaire I gave to members at Redfield I asked about the merits of communal
living as a means to reduce environmental impact in society. The comments fell into three
categories:
1. Physical: sharing facilities leads to less environmental impact and lower costs.
2. Social: there is less social competition to consume.
3. Political: doubting the feasibility of continued economic growth and reduced environmental
impact.
Under the first category – what might be termed the ‘economies of scale’ argument- sharing
reduces costs and need for individual possessions. One Redfield member said:
It reduces material consumption because we cook together, using very little processed food
and saving energy. We share one kitchen, one washing machine, films on video etc. We try to
produce as much of our own food as possible. We can share tools and other equipment (lawn
mower, chain saw) etc. We circulate unwanted clothing etc. We can skillshare - so we're more
likely to 'fix' something than go out and buy new.
The benefits here are clear and straightforward, but its impact on consumption is not clearcut. Sharing does not necessarily lead to lower consumption. In fact shared facilities make
possible access to expensive (and energy intensive) resources that the individual could not
hope to attain such as swimming pools, saunas, hot tubs, cars, holiday homes etc.
Under the second category, the social impact of communal living, one Redfield member said:
Communal living is more satisfying leading to a reduction in the need for 'toys' to keep up
morale in a conventional 9-5 situation.
The 'keeping up with the Jones' needs are also reduced as 'the Jones are communards' in the
same situation as me. There is an ethos of negative snobbery - the less my second hand
bargain clothes cost, the more people think that I'm smart (kind of thing!). I can tailor my
earnings to meet my lower costs
This social influence not to consume, and hence be content on a lower income, does have an
important environmental impact. For impact is definitely linked to income – it is almost
impossible to be a rich ‘green consumer’. In a materialist society it is socially difficult not to
consume unless one is a hermit, but communes provides the possibility to be islands of nonconsumption. As another remarked:
There is reduced peer pressure to spend money compared to life outside Redfield. Socializing
and leisure costs are greatly reduced. The general ethos at Redfield is to reduce our
environmental impact as much as possible and this is contagious - we also learn from each
other.
This educational or political role of communal living is explored in the third theme: the lack of
awareness of most people about the link between consumption and environmental impact. As
one Redfield member commented:
. You mention material consumption = environmental impact as though most people agree
with it, but of course they don't. All political parties want increased material consumption and
environmental protection, and are trying to fool us into thinking we can have both.
While another said:
. it is an interesting discussion/question that has far reaching implications for the wider society
in general. I don't think economic growth and improved or lessened environmental impact can
actually co-exist- one is the cause and the other poverty subsidies wealth.
Economic Growth v Environmental damage
This question of whether we can have continued economic growth without more
environmental damage is at the heart of the environmental debate since the 1960s. It was first
highlighted in the mid 1960s by Herman Daly (1991), and received worldwide attention in the
‘limits to growth’ debate in the early 1970s. Some say it has been resolved through the
possibility of ‘dematerialization’, that is economic growth without material consumption
using vastly increased resource efficiency and a shift to a service economy. These ideas have
received extensive publicity and government support, through such books as ‘Factor 4’ and
‘Natural Capitalism’.
However I have argued elsewhere that improvements in resource efficiency alone will not lead
to reduced material consumption (Herring 2000). What is needed is an ethos of conservation –
living with less – rather than of consuming more through higher efficiency (Sachs 1988,
Herring 2001). Andy Rudin, a US energy manager and moralist argues passionately for
energy conservation to be considered a noble goal and on his website (Rudin 1999) explicitly
makes the moral case:
.if we want to protect the environment, we have to emphasize conservation and restraint, not
improved energy efficiency and consumption. This is a moral issue, not an economic one....
Conservation is heroic because it implies discipline, sacrifice, caring for common interests....
We should use less energy because it is the right action, not just because someone pays us to
do so.
Laurie Michaelis, currently an Oxford researcher into the ethics of consumption, believes that
we should aim to develop ideals of the good life that can be achieved without excessive
material consumption. He concludes this is likely to require a cultural change..deciding
collectively how the good life should look, and to modify our behaviour accordingly.
Conclusion
Communal living in that it promotes a culture of conservation is an essential part of how the
good life should look. To do this they have to be moral, not economic communities. Sharing
facilities is not enough: this is just consumption through (economic) efficiency. Although cohousing based on environmental and energy efficient design is desirable and becoming
increasingly popular (Meltzer 1998), it is not sufficient. What is needed is a moral vision and
a practical demonstration about a voluntarily chosen low consumption lifestyle.
This goal of 'voluntary simplicity' has been the teaching of all religious leaders, but is hard to
sustain in a materialistic society. Communal living, as did monastic communities in past ages,
offers a refuge from competitive consumption. As Bill Metcalf (2000) remarks.. for any
community to be sustainable it must endure as a social unit while dramatically reducing its
environmental impact. Unfortunately, those communal groups on the increase are the very
ones with the least potential for environmental saving.
That is the dilemma facing sustainable communal into the 21st century.
References
Corr, Michael & Dan MacLeod, 1972, Getting it Together, Environment, 14(9), pp. 2-9 &
45.
Daly, Herman, 1991, Steady State Economics, 2nd ed, Washington: Island Press.
deGryse, Gerald, 1985, Visions of alternative communities: Environmental sustainability and
Self-Reliance. Masters thesis. School of Environmental Planning, University of Melbourne.
Hawken, Paul, Amory & Hunter Lovins, 1999, Natural Capitalism: The Next Industrial
Revolution, Earthscan
Herring, Horace, 2000, Is Energy Efficiency Environmentally Friendly?, Energy &
Environment, Vol 11, No.3. pp313-326.
Herring, Horace, 2001, 'Why we need Energy Conservation not Energy Efficiency'. Paper for
energyresources2001 conf. http://www.rmrenergyresource2001.com/version2.0.0.2000.10.16/papers/papers.cfm?sector_id=2
Meltzer, G, 1998, 'Cohousing: Linking Community and Sustainability'. Paper presented at the
sixth International Communal Studies Association
Conference, Amsterdam, July 7-9, 1998.
Metcalf, Bill, 2000, Sustainable Communal Living Around the Globe, Diggers & Dreamers
2000/2001, pp 5-20.
Michaelis, Laurie, 2000, Ethics of Consumption, Oxford: Centre for Environment, Ethics and
Society.
Noorman, Klaus Jan and Ton Schoot Uiterkamp, eds,1998, Green Household? Domestic
Consumers, Environment and Sustainability, Earthscan
Rudin, Andy, 1999, How improved efficiency harms the environment,
http://home.earthlink.net/~andrewrudin.
Sachs, Wolfgang, 1988, The Gospel of Global Efficiency, Nyon, Switzerland: IFDA Dossier
68 ; Chpt 3 in Sachs 1999, Planet Dialectics, Zed Books,
Trainer, Ted, 1984, How Cheaply Can We Live, Ekistics, 304, pp. 61-6,
Weizsacker, Ernst von, Amory B. and L. Hunter Lovins, 1997, Factor four: doubling wealth halving resource use, Earthscan.
[email protected]
1.11 Arcosanti and Communal Living
The Architecture of Communal Living: Lessons from
Arcosanti in Arizona
Arcosanti: East Crescent under construction, 1999
Cosanti Foundation
Dr. David Grierson
Department of Architecture, University of Strathclyde
131 Rottenrow, Glasgow G4 ONG.
tel
0141 548 3069
fax
0141 552 3997
[email protected]
Paolo Soleri’s arcology model (architecture + ecology) addresses issues of sustainability by
advocating living in a balanced relationship between urban morphology and performance
within dense, integrated and compact structures. Within these structures material recycling,
waste reduction and the use of renewable energy sources are adopted as part of a
sustainable strategy aimed at reducing the flow of resources and energy through the urban
system.
Today, as governments, eager to deliver major environmental improvements, press on with as
yet untried and largely untested ‘centrist’ policies of urban living, there is a need to research
relevant models of the ‘compact city’ approach. Issues involved with the intensification in the
use of space, higher residential densities, centralisation, compactness, the integration of land
uses and aspects of self-containment need to be examined. Over the last ten years, as the
criteria of sustainability have become more widely accepted and understood, the relevance
of the Soleri’s urban model has become clearer.
Arcosanti, begun in 1970, offers a laboratory for testing the validity of Soleri’s ideas. This
paper examines arcology and Arcosanti within the context of sustainability. Since the energy
crisis of the mid 1970s, efforts at Arcosanti have been directed toward the definition and
testing of various architectural effects on a community-wide scale that could offer a response
to many of today’s environmental problems.
But progress is painstakingly slow. Lacking the level of funding and resources that would
enable it to be convincing, Arcosanti now represents not so much a specific prototypal
solution, but an activist-engaged strategy that advocates the possibility of building our
dreams and visions. In a world plagued by so many problems and so few alternatives, it
nevertheless continues to offer a beacon of hope on the threshold of a new millennium.
A new urban setting
Located around seventy miles north of Phoenix, in the central Arizona desert , Arcosanti, a
unique laboratory devoted to testing a new ecological alternative to the modern city, has
been developing slowly over the last 30 years. Arcosanti is a working prototype for a new
kind of city, one that is being designed, built, and inhabited as a three-dimensional, highly
concentrated urban structure.67 A permanent experiment in urban intensity, directed by
architect and visionary Paolo Soleri, when complete it will house an environmentally benign
‘learning/doing’ community of five to six thousand people on only fifteen acres of land. Set
on the edge of a mesa above the Agua Fria River, in the middle of an 860-acre nature
preserve containing orchards, agricultural fields, canyons and high desert hills, the compact
structures of Arcosanti, face towards the sun to gather its energy. When complete they’ll
stretch no more than quarter of a mile on any one side, but will rise to as much as thirty stories
tall. Inside the structures will contain the economic, cultural, and social infrastructure normally
scattered around a modern city, while providing residents up to two thousand square feet of
living space per family. A series of orchards will line the north side of the structure, creating a
unique fusion of urban and agricultural environments. Outside there will be expansive views
of another three thousand acres leased from Arizona State, to be kept as undeveloped open
space. An integral part of the design will be five to seven acres of south facing sloping
greenhouses, an ‘energy apron’ acting as a central system for producing food and
collecting energy to support the prototype town.
Since 1970 Soleri has used Arcosanti to rethink modern urban planning. Rather than
accept the logic of two-dimensional cities, and what he sees as the inherent wastefulness of
suburban sprawl, he has developed a laboratory to explore the idea of “urban implosion” wherein the city infrastructure contracts and intensifies in order to become more efficient,
ecological, and sustainable. Soleri believes that cities can be designed in such a way that the
vitality of urban life can be increased, without destroying the surrounding environment that
sustains the habitat. The arcology concept, from which Arcosanti derives, prohibits the motor
car from the city and instead advocates the widespread use of pedestrian walkways, lifts,
escalators, and moving platforms. Because of the compact nature of the urban structure,
most journeys by foot would take about fifteen to twenty minutes (about the same time as it
takes typically to walk from inside a shopping mall to the outskirts of the car park in cities like
Phoenix and Los Angeles). The ‘controlled implosion’ at Arcosanti would stabilise the
community at around 350 people per acre – ten times the population density of New York
City.
Arcosanti, now listed on the state map of Arizona, is officially a small town. As such it is
faced with the challenges of daily existence but, at the same time, its aim is fixed firmly on the
future. By trying to anticipate it and moreover attempting to plan for it, Arcosanti strives to
keep the road to the future open, while recognising that paradise here on earth can only
ever be an imaginary condition. With each passing year Phoenix is creeping ever closer to
Arcosanti. It is conceivable that, in the not-too-distant future Arcosanti will simply be another
of its suburbs.
Today the vast majority of us now live in cities. And around the world, as these cities reach
unprecedented sizes, their increasing social and environmental problems need to be
addressed if we are to avoid catastrophe. The formless urbanity of megalopoly that sprawls
out across endless landscapes of development, devouring energy and resources and
67 See Paolo Soleri, Arcosanti: An Urban Laboratory? (Avant Books and the Cosanti Foundation, San Diego,
CA, 1983)
destroying people and land in its wake, is eroding the ideal of the traditional city. The process
has, according to Bookchin (1980), already turned the notion of city planning into a myth.68
And yet we are at a critical point in the history of human settlement. The built environment
does not work. It consumes and pollutes too much. In our age of globalised economies and
culture, the overlapping challenges of environmental decline, technological revolution and
population explosion require that we look upon the built environment in new and different
ways. Our new age demands a new urban setting.
Models of sustainable urban development
The term sustainable development has been used since the Cocoyoc seminar (1974) to
catalyse debate concerning the relationship between economic growth and the naturalresource base on which it depends. The widespread interest in theories, ethics, and practice
concerning sustainability indicates an increasing concern about the adverse impacts that
conventional models of development have had on the environment, in both the developed
and undeveloped parts of the world. Today, as environmental problems have been brought
more sharply into focus (particularly urban environmental problems) sustainable
development is being described as a fundamental goal and the term is being used to
suggest how, on both the local and global scales, the lessons of ecology can be applied to
economic progress. By suggesting that environmental protection and continuing economic
growth can be seen as mutually compatible, it attempts to displace the ‘limits to growth’
argument.69
Although the concept of sustainable development has been criticised as being too
vague and contradictory70 it has, in recent years begun to achieve political priority status. As
more people are willing to accept that, in large part, the environmental crisis is caused by the
way our cities are designed and built, governments across the globe are demanding a
planned response to urban environmental problems. Such a response needs to be based on
solid theoretical foundations as well as hard technical evidence. There is a general
recognition that if we are to hand on a decent living environment to future generations, we
need now to assemble radically different collective thought processes that are able and
willing to engage in discussions about possible alternative futures within a rapidly urbanising
world.
And yet there seems to be a real dearth of new ideas about the future of society. Those
big ideological differences of the kind that inspired the grand urban 'metanarratives' of
planners like Ebenezer Howard (Garden Cities of Tomorrow), Le Corbusier (La Ville Radieuse)
and Frank Lloyd Wright (Broadacre City) don’t seem to exist any more. The obvious question
thus arises; who will create an environmentally sustainable society?
Within the academic and policy literature emerging around the notion of the ‘sustainable
cities’, a number of different models have been developed which represent radically different
68 Bookchin, M. Toward an Ecological Society (Black Rose Books, Montreal & New York, 1980), p. 135
69 See Meadows, D. H. et al, The Limits to Growth (Earth Island, London, 1974) and Meadows, D. H. et al,
Beyond the Limits: Confronting Global Collapse or Envisioning a Sustainable Future (Earthscan, London,
1992)
70 See, for example, I. Illich, “The Shadow Our Future Throws” in S. Anzouvin (ed.), Preserving World
Ecology (H. W. Wilson & Co., New York, 1990) pp 177-185 and M. O’Connor (ed.), Is Capitalism
Sustainable? Political Economy and the Politics of Ecology (Guilford, New York, 1994)
views of how such cities might be realised. These vary from the non-spatial free-market
attempts to foster sustainable development by redefining market pricing and regulatory
systems, to models based on re-designing the physical fabric of the city to improve resource
efficiency and bring about a self-reliant city.71 The compact city idea is now being promoted
as a major component of the various strategies emerging to tackle some of these
problems.72 The rationale for its implementation lies in a set of strategic benefits that are seen
as the outcome of more compact urban forms in which travel distances are reduced
lessening fuel emissions, rural land is saved from development, local facilities are supported
and local areas become more autonomous.
The arcology model
Within this context Paolo Soleri's arcology city model or ecological city model, which builds
upon his ecological design work dating back to the 1950s, attempts to address issues of
sustainability by advocating a balanced relationship between urban morphology and
performance within cities designed to conform to what Soleri describes as the complexity miniaturization - duration (CMD) paradigm. The model recognises the need for the radical
reorganisation of urban sprawl into dense, integrated compact urban structures in which
material recycling, waste reduction and the use of renewable energy sources are part of a
sustainable strategy aimed at reducing the flow of resources and products through the urban
system. Soleri calls these urban structures arcologies (embodying the fusion of architecture
with ecology) to underline their conceptual basis, both in the discipline of architecture and
the science of ecology.
The concept is that of a structure called an arcology, or ecological architecture…Such a
structure would take the place of the natural landscape inasmuch as it would constitute the
new topography to be dealt with. This man-made topography would differ from the natural
topography in the following ways:
1. It would not be a one-surface configuration but a multilevel one.
2. It would be conceived in such a way as to be the carrier of all the elements that make the physical
life of the city possible - places and inlets for people, freight, water, power, climate, telephone;
places and outlets for people, freight, waste, mail, products and so forth.
3. It would be a large-dimensioned sheltering device, fractioning three-dimensional space in large
and small subspaces, making its own weather and its own cityscape.
4. It would be the major vessel for massive flow of people and things within and toward the outside of
the city .
5. It would be the organizing pattern and anchorage for private and public institutions of the city.
6. It would be the focal structure for the complex and ever-changing life of the city.
7. It would be the unmistakable expression of man the maker and the creator. It would be diverse and
singular in all of its realizations. Arcology would be surrounded by uncluttered an open
landscape. 73
The complexity-miniaturization-duration paradigm
In line with the modern ecological view of science emphasising a holistic, systemic
approach, he argues that all of nature, "from bacteria to God" conforms to an imperative
involving three fundamental principles:
71 Haughton, G. 'Searching for the Sustainable City: Competing Philosophical Rationales and Processes of
'Ideological Capture' in Adelaide, South Australia', in Urban Studies 36 (11), (1999)
72 Jenks, M. et al (eds.), The Compact City: A Sustainable Urban Form? (E & FN Spon, London, 1996)
73 Soleri, P. Arcology: The City in the Image of Man (MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass., 1969), p. 13
1.
COMPLEXITY. Many events and processes cluster wherever a living process is going on. The
make-up of the process is immensely complex and ever intensifying.
2.
MINIATURIZATION. The nature of complexity demands the rigorous utilization of all resources mass-energy and space-time, for example. Therefore, whenever complexity is at work, miniaturization
is mandated and a part of the process.
DURATION. Process implies extension of time. Temporal extension is warped by living stuff into acts
of duration, i.e., the eventual "living outside of time".74
3.
In nature as an organism evolves its complexity increases and it develops into a more
compact and miniaturised system. In this way the process of evolution acts against the
direction of entropy. For Soleri humanity stands in "the flow of [this] evolutionary process and
gains meaning from its place and role in that process". 75 He argues that successful and
sophisticated forms of life, such as the human city must follow the complexity/ miniaturization/
duration path in order to become a "more lively container for the social, cultural, and spiritual
evolution of [humankind]". More events can occur in a more complex system. An increase in
"eventfulness" brings with it the phenomenon of "liveliness".76 According to Soleri, by following
the (CMD) paradigm his arcology model stands in opposition to urban sprawl with its
inherently wasteful consumption of land, energy, time and human resources.
The ecological platform
Arcology’s ecological model derives from the elimination of the motor car, and the
reclamation of all the space associated with this form of transportation in roads, car parks,
showrooms, garages, petrol stations, repairs, junkyards. Typically today's cities devote up to
sixty percent of their land for car functions. By eliminating the car from inside the city and
reserves it for use outside an arcology would need about two percent as much land as a
typical city of similar population. Walking becomes the main form of transportation inside.
The philosophical and theological scope of Soleri's thinking crosses traditional boundaries
between the subjects of architecture, ecology, biology, urban design, sociology,
environmental studies, and art. Developed from his doctoral research in human ecology,
completed in 1946, Soleri’s conception, in opposition to the fragmented nature of current
cities, involves the creation of a new physical layer, what he calls a “neonature”.77 The scope
of his arcology is to produce a theoretical model for this new landscape that would be
designed to support biological, human, and social evolution while containing human
societies along with all their material goods. Sustainability is simply part of our theological and
technological evolution. The architect's sacred task of ecological design is then directed
towards the attainment of the Civitas Dei (City of God) as the next step in the progressive
transformation of human existence.78 Soleri’s model of sustainable urban development sees,
74 Soleri, P. Arcosanti: An Urban Laboratory? (Avant Books and the Cosanti Foundation, San Diego, CA,
1983)
75 Cobb, 'Paolo Soleri and Christian Faith', Preface to Soleri, The Omega Seed (1981), pp. 13-26
76 Soleri, P. The Bridge Between matter and Spirit is Matter Becoming Spirit (Anchor Press/Doubleday,
Garden City, NY, 1973), p. 207
77 Soleri, Arcology (1969), p. 20
78 Ibid
in the contraction and greater sophistication of the city (including all its equipment,
machinery, infrastructure, services, etc.), both the efficient possibility of achieving more with
less and the chance of reaching new levels of human development. Such transformation
involves a radical revision of the current social, cultural, political and economic structure. The
function of arcology is to facilitate the breakthrough to these new levels of individuality and
community.
Soleri’s wide philosophical reach, ranging from speculation on the evolution of the cosmos to his
eschatological hypothesis is daunting but the integration of his philosophical and theological thinking with ideas
about the design of cities has given him a unique status both as a philosopher and as an urban planner. In
adopting a position historically rooted in idealism he sees architecture as more of a social calling than a material
activity. Because it is primarily an informational process it can help lead to an ecological revolution.
By promoting a different kind of urban model, he envisions the possibility of re-naturalising
the natural environment. According to Luke (1997), by striving to achieve a different social
order and, in so doing encouraging a wholesale re-evaluation of the extent of our impact on
the natural environment he is contributing to radical ecology's mission of world disclosure. 79
Towards Two Suns
Soleri asserts that ‘the most common mistake’ about his work is the assumption that "years of
introspection have produced a take it or leave it package”. Rather he says "I am proposing
a methodology and at the same time trying to illustrate it ".80 The methodology was initially
developed within the Mesa City Project (1958-67). 81 Then in 1969 Soleri published Arcology:
the City in the Image of Man and followed this with an exhibition of drawings and models
entitled 'The Architectural Vision of Paolo Soleri', which toured the United States and Canada
to record attendance numbers. In both the book and the exhibition he sketched out giant
structures that would dwarf the Empire State Building. The thirty first generation arcologies,
designed between 1963 and their publication in 1969 consist of two groups: Dionysian and
Apollonian. Dionysian arcologies are affiliated to Mesa City and are configured in a "free
form" character. Like Novanoah II (a city for 2,400,000 to float on coastal waters or open
sea), Arcoforte (20,000 people on a sea cliff), Veladiga (15,000 people on a dam site),
Stonebow (200,000 people above a ravine or canyon), and Theology (with a population of
13,000 set within a cliff). Apollonian arcologies are characterised by the elementary geometry
of the envelope and the simplicity of the form: a cube, sphere, pyramid, hexahedron,
cylinder, etc. Examples of these are Arcube (a city of 400,000 people located on flatlands),
Hexahedron (a city of 170,000 on any topography), and Asteromo (70,000 people living in
space) and the original proposals for Arcosanti (for 1,500).
With the development of the next generation of arcologies, The Two Suns Arcology (1975)
in responding to the growing energy crisis of the mid-70s Soleri split the architectural concept
79 T. Luke, 'Developing an Arcological Politics' in Ecocritique: Contesting the Politics of Nature, Economy
and Culture (University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 1997), pp. 156-7.
80 Soleri, P. The Omega Seed: An Eschatological Hypothesis, (Anchor Press/Doubleday, Garden City, New
York, 1981), p. 206
81 Mesa City was a theoretical regional plan to house 2 million people on around 55,000 acres (about the size
of Manhattan Island) on an isolated and pre-flattened desert plateau. Developed as part of Soleri's ongoing
research in the field of "architecture as human ecology" Mesa City was specifically aimed at introducing the idea
of "corposity into the urban morphology, a premonition of the arcological concept".
of the first generation structures in half "exposing the core to the sun". This produced some
highly significant related effects; it gave greater priority to the main source of renewable
energy and placed the arcology concept much more firmly into its own ecological niche. The
ideas that emerged in the second generation arcologies, within the concept of the ‘energy
city’ also served to reinforce the relationship between architecture and ecology.
In 1975 six major (and simple) architectural ‘effects’ were described, collectively under the
aegis of the ‘urban effect’.82 These offer a response to many of today's environmental
problems":83
The greenhouse effect is a membrane that seals off an area of ground that can be cultivated,
extending the growing season to practically twelve months, and also saves a great amount of
water…With the "greenhouse", one has intensive agriculture, limited use of water and
extension of seasonal cycles. This is the horticultural effect. Then there is the apse effect. Some
structures can take in the benign radiation of the sun in winter months, and tend to cut off the
harsh radiation of the sun in the summer. By the chimney effect, which is connected with the
greenhouse effect, one can convey, passively, energy through the movement of air; the heat
from one area to another. So we have these four effects; there is also the capacity of
masonary to accumulate and store energy - the heat sink effect. With relatively large
masonary, one can store energy during the warm hours of the day, and give it out during cool
or cold hors of the night. The intent is to see if these five effects can be organized around what
I call the urban effect. The urban effect is the capacity of mineral matter, to become lively,
sensitive, responsive, memorizing… If we were to co-ordinate those six effects together, then
we definitely could save on resources like land, water, time, energy, materialism, and have a
better ecological sanity.84
These effects were combined in a series of designs for second generation arcologies,
including Air Dam Arcology, India Village, Maryland Arcology, and Regina Arcology. In these
proposals the entire form of the urban structure as well as a huge area of south-facing
greenhouses containing vegetable gardens, are designed to maximise the use of solar
energy while reducing dependence on external energy sources. This approach offered the
generative principles for the development of Arcosanti as an ‘energy city’ during the 1980s
and 90s.
Perhaps Soleri's most important contribution is in beginning to rethink human ecology and
encouraging us to re-conceptualise the extent of the human impact on the natural
environment. Although he vigorously denies the suggestion that his model is utopian, in recasting of the relationship between society and nature, arcology conforms to the "classical"
utopian typology and the positive utopian energies here, rather than be denied, should be
acknowledged and affirmed. A special power of the utopia is its ability to present political
and social ideas in an unusually imaginative way, functioning as bearer of a vision and
offering inspiration for those with a desire to look forward and gain insight into a feasible
imaginable future. Despite the economic, social and technological uncertainties, utopias
dare to paint a futuristic picture of society and offer readers a glimpse into 'their own ' future.
But perhaps their greatest attraction is that they stimulate us to think in a participatory way,
82 P. Soleri, 'Two Suns Arcology' in aaq 7 (2), (1975), pp. 33-41. The urban effect is described as a universal
effect involving the transformation of mineral matter into mind via the potentially unlimited power of
complexification and miniaturisation. Soleri says it is 'that fundamental phenomenon in which two or more
particles of physical matter begin to interact in ways other than statistical or fatal, that is, in ways which are
organic or living'.
83 Luke, (1997), pp. 161-2
84 Soleri, P. Technology and Cosmogenesis (Paragon House, New York, 1985), p. 137-8
and so encourage reflection. The reviewer is forced to take a stand and critically reconsider
his opinions about the most desirable way in which the economy, society and the state
should be organised. Utopias, in this sense, act as a 'critical norm', developing criteria with
which to measure current social development. They can stimulate theoretical experiments,
encourage attempts to break through fixed patterns of thinking and test unorthodox
combinations of ideas.
Soleri’s response to urban environmental problems
An arcology is designed to improve the life quality of its inhabitants, and to be highly efficient
in the processes of production and consumption. The model derives from a desire to come
up with a workable alternatives to today’s unsustainable patterns of urban development, an
ambition now shared by many urban designers and planners such as Peter Calthorpe85,
Andres Duany and Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, Herbert Girardet86, Richard Register87, Richard
Rogers88 and the Urban Villages Group. What sets Soleri apart is his radical approach to
solving these problems the sheer scale of his vision, and his determination, since 1970 to build
a prototype at Arcosanti to test his ideas. After Two Suns Arcosanti (meaning architecture
“before things” or “anti-materialist architecture”) was re-designed to rely as much as possible
on the 'soft technologies' of sun and wind power and other renewable energy so as to
reduce pollution and dependence on fossil fuels. Because it needs less energy per capita the
model renders recycling and the use of solar energy more feasible than in present cities.
Material recycling, waste reduction, energy conservation, and the use of renewable energy
sources each become part of a strategy for sustainability aimed at reducing the flow of
resources and products through the habitat.
In theory at least arcology offers a response to many of today's urban environmental
problems. In particular in offering a holistic prototype in Arcosanti that deals with a whole raft
of issues such as self-containment of habitat, land use, urban transportation, food and
energy production and the habitat’s impact on natural resources and pollution the model
confronts problems of exponential population expansion and the inefficient use of land, air
and water; pollution caused by technological society; energy and natural resource
depletion, distribution and consumption; food scarcity; the loss of quality of life through
waste, affluence and opulence and the physical and social segregation of people, things
and activities, and the increasing problems of social alienation and exclusion
Self-containment of habitat
Through its adherence to the complexity-miniaturization-duration paradigm arcology is
dedicated to the 'old' notion of containment in opposition to the relatively recent idea of
diaspora (where the car is the main protagonist). Soleri's metaphor for the city "in the image
of man" emphasises this idea of self-containment. The self-containment of humans within the
85 Calthorpe, P. The Next American Metropolis: Ecology, Community and the American Dream (Princeton
Architectural Press, New York, 1993)
86 Girardet, H. The Gaia Atlas of Cities (Gaia Books Limited, London, 1992)
87 Register, R. Ecocity Berkeley: Building Cities for a Healthy Future (North Atlantic Books, Berkeley, CA.,
1987)
88 Rogers, R. Cities for a Small Planet (Faber and Faber, London, 1997)
structure of our bodies allows us to communicate and interact with other humans. Having a
complex system contained within a body "is the imperative for any organism capable of
connecting effectively with the 'outside'".89
Without self-containment the city cannot act effectively with the surrounding natural environment. Soleri
argues that "ecological sanity…is dependent on centres of life so intense as to retain within their boundaries
(city-town) the bulk of the planetary population and its paraphernalia".90 But he points out that the
converse is also true. When the city looses sustenance from the countryside it is doomed.
… if we were scattered to the four winds we would not be able to contain the complex
arrangements of matter-energy that allows performance and we would just disappear and die.
Arcologies will be contained within a "skin" that will make it possible to "perform and achieve",
to communicate, so the city can be in a position to control itself. 91
Land use
The arcologies presented in 1969 were located on marginal lands, far from main
transportation networks, many poor in resources and generally considered difficult to
"colonise". Since these may be the sort of reserves where future cultures will have to settle,
(leaving fertile lands free for increasing crop cultivation), the task is to demonstrate the
viability of the self-containment of a community on such inhospitable land. Many civilisations
throughout history have had to deal with restrictive eco-systems. They have survived by
making the best of the environment. Arcologies use the land, its geological structure and its
water as the main physical resource, as well as the sun, the climate and connections with
neighbouring communities in order to do more with less. Arcosanti’s semi-arid location in the
desert presents particular challenges to settlement.
Adopting a higher concentration of land use deriving from a mixed use development is an effective method of
altering the impact of a settlement on the natural environment. Arcology is mixed use in its purest form accommodating a variety of uses within one structure. In contrast to sprawl, an arcology acts as a large
integrated, self-contained structure. Its compact design allows agricultural land and biologically diverse habitats
to remain preserved beyond the city's perimeter. In an attempt to reintegrate people within their community
Arcosanti is designed as a mixed-use complex, containing homes, offices, schools, parks, and a cultural centre.
The belief is that a close interaction of city functions and people will induce a greater sense of community. Mel
Roman, psychologist and family therapist, believes that in place like Arcosanti:
… the integration of living, working and recreation become a very natural part of everyday
lives . Its not something you have to take a child to see, to do, but rather something that is
experienced in everyday life. 92
Integration is a main goal and points to the reshaping of the entire urban landscape
and, along with it, the culture that such a landscape supports. For Soleri our information age
offers society an unprecedented opportunity to bring together the main components of life,
89 P. Soleri, Selected Paolo Soleri Papers: 1981-93 Volume 1 (Cosanti Foundation, Scottsdale, 1993) p. 45
90 Soleri, Arcosanti (1983), p. 17
91 P. Soleri in P. Bonvicini, 'Soleri Dialogues' in L'architettura: cronache e storia 422, (December, 1990), p.
874
92 Mel Roman, Family Psychologist cited in Mayne, Soleri's Cities: Architecture for the Planet Earth and
Beyond (1993)
but the habitat that we have constructed for ourselves during the last century is alien to such
integration. Therefore, he argues, it needs to be reconfigured.
Urban transportation
In the United States traffic jams account for around $100 billion a year in lost productivity.
Many European cities with good mass transit systems have been all but ruined by cars.
London and Paris, for example, are among the world's great cities but their environments
have been diminished by the near-constant noise and exhaust of cars on their streets. In the
UK the Royal Commission on Environmental Pollution warned in 1994 that in Britain "the
unrelenting growth of transport has become possibly the greatest environmental threat". Our
car-dominated transport system, the report said, is unsustainable.93
Like many critics of car dependency Soleri is not against the technology per se but against our
complete reliance on it for transportation. While he acknowledges planning efforts that aim
to produce more efficient land use patterns thereby reducing the number and frequency of
car trips, and the introduction of fuel-efficient technology in car design and manufacture,
Soleri contends that such improvements fail to attack the core of the problem. They are, he
says, simply "a better kind of wrongness", By virtue of its compact design, Arcosanti would
allow cars to be relegated to service areas on the periphery or reserved for travel between
communities.
Food and energy production
Arcology aims at a degree of autonomy and self-reliance, rather than 'self-sufficiency '.
Self-sufficient communities, which aim at total self-provision of food and energy, and the
complete recycling of wastes, are according to Soleri "extravagant and devoid of sense".
There is no way the Earth or anything in it, he argues, can be perfect because it is a small part
of a much larger system. The arcology concept is directed instead at a more restrained and
judicious use of resources via the power of complexity and miniaturisation and the discipline
of frugality.
The degree of self-reliance in food production has changed as the arcology concept has evolved. In Mesa City
the settlement was designed to be entirely dependent on the produce of the surrounding
hinterland and on traditional agricultural practices. With the development of the Two Suns
approach food and energy (radiant) were to be produced within south-facing greenhouses
located within the city. These are designed to support the city's population at a minimum
level. Other produce is imported from outside to supplement the goods and services
provided on this self-reliant base (e.g. electricity from the main grid).
All Soleri's projects after 1958 have explored methods of generating and harvesting energy from renewable
sources and have aimed at transforming the urban structure into an "energy machine". In the Two Suns
approach the city is conceived of as a complex in which living, working and learning are
integrated with food and energy production. The city becomes both consumer and
producer. Apses and exedra (semi-circular edifices - developed from the apse form) that
respond to the Sun's trajectory as energy devices and large expanses of greenhouses
attached to the city, are used to generate heat and electricity as well as to grow food, help
define the urban structure as an ‘energy city’.
93 Royal Commission on Environmental Pollution, Eighteenth Report: Transport and Environment (HMSO,
London, 1994)
Impact on natural resources and pollution
Arcologies, through a blend of energy conservation and land use efficiencies, together
with waste recycling systems, could maintain the ecological integrity of the region while
placing fewer demands on the environment in terms of land, water, soil, fuel and other
resources. By reducing the demand for petrol -based transportation systems air quality could
be radically improved. Non-pollutant passive solar-active energy systems such as wind
turbines, photovoltaic cells, and solar cooling and heating would further help to reduce
water, air and land pollution.
James Lovelock’s Gaia hypothesis sees the earth as a self-regulating system in which conditions suitable for
life are maintained by feedback processes involving both living things and the non-living part of the planet. In
similar vein Soleri sees both the planet, and the arcology as "a semi-autonomous organism, constantly
recycling and digesting parts of itself, constantly redefining its own "constitution". 94 By combining various
passive energy strategies within a single integrated urban system, arcology aims at a
theoretical and architectural synthesis, in which philosophical, ecological and theological
ideas are "woven into a structure of great beauty and integrity, and which, at the same time,
is a structure of stunning frugality from the standpoint of energy conservation".95
… all arcologies are "small" in the sense of their being miniaturization of performance. They
take the place of the megastructures of breakdown and paralysis. Los Angeles is a supermegastructure, incorporating all the syndromes of waste, pollution, and segregation. The urban
effect of arcology is at the opposite end of the spectrum…a complex, miniaturized, selflimiting habitat is the best site for more efficient, less costly disposal and recycling programs.
Naturally frugality is the most cost effective way to confront the pollution-recycling-cost
dilemma. 96
Unfinished business at the urban laboratory
In Two Suns Soleri discussed the theoretical potential of the urban scale of the greenhouse
effect. At the urban laboratory at Arcosanti, among other experiments, volunteers have been
working towards a large-scale practical demonstration of this idea. The area covered by the
greenhouses is described as the energy apron. Locating the greenhouses lower than the
habitat structures and spaces means that the naturally accumulating warm air can be passed
through tunnels up into the living areas. Because of convection no additional energy is
required as long as there is a chimney at the end of the tunnel. Cooling using evaporation is
also being explored, whereby cool air created by misting at cooling towers at the top of the
structure, forms moist air which falls back through the tunnels.
The conceptual work involving the design of a large central system for food and energy
production was carried out from 1974-1976.97 Extensive research, carried out from 19761978, resulted in the construction of a prototype greenhouse in 1979. This facility has been
operating in a passive mode since March 1979, generating both agricultural and climactic
94 Soleri, Arcosanti (1983), p. 24
95 H. Skolimowski, Foreword in Soleri, Two Suns Arcology (1975)
96 Soleri, Arcosanti (1983), pp. 24-8
97 This work was made possible by a grant from Xerox Corporation, with matching funds from the Cosanti
Foundation, the American Revolution Bicentennial Administration and the Environmental Research Laboratory
at the University of Arizona.
data necessary for further greenhouse development, specifically aiding in the designs of the
first full-scale segment of the energy apron. Soleri wrote on the greenhouse research project in
1985:
If the greenhouse is on a flat area, quite definitely you need energy and equipment to
ventilate the greenhouse in the summer, but if you slope the greenhouse, you introduce the
chimney effect, and the greenhouse is self-ventilating. One can take the greenhouse and
make it into a wafer, a sun collector, then you can incorporate the sun collector in the roof.
This is the normal way of going about producing hot water. Or you can make the greenhouse
with two effects: one as a sun collector, and the other as a food producer. Warm air can be
pumped into the house and can produce some vegetables, as a form of energy, which is, let's
say, the warm air, automatically through the chimney effect. If one takes the house and
transforms it into a multiple kind of aggregate like a village or a town, and then one enlarges
the greenhouse proportionately, one begins to see the possibilities of having a solar town.98
The greenhouses are designed to benefit from:
• heat collection - curved surface retaining walls are designed to collect maximum winter
sun and create a warmer environment in the greenhouse;
• the greenhouse shading - deciduous plants growing from the membrane support columns
will shade the greenhouse during the hot summer months. Winter leaf drop will allow
maximum sun penetration;
• a membrane system - the greenhouses will be covered with a polythene film anchored on
four sides and tensioned by jacks to eliminate tearing of the membrane by wind flutter.
The film will be used instead of glass for both economic and aesthetic reasons.
In addition to the practical aspects Soleri observes that the greenhouses will be "a
demonstration of ways to touch on global issues: food inequity, climate change, and how to
produce food in an ecologically sane way". 99
Most of the world's arable land is already under cultivation. Around two-thirds of the
world's marginal land is located in the semi-arid desert with climatic conditions similar to
Arcosanti. The remainder is deemed largely unsuitable, being too cold, wet, arid or
mountainous to sustain current agricultural methods. Increasing global food production by
improving the productivity of land already under cultivation is one method of obtaining
higher yields. Another is to explore methods of bringing marginal lands, generally ill-suited to
agriculture due to adverse climatic and topographical conditions, into production.
Arcosanti's experimental work on the passive energy apron addresses both of these areas of
investigation. The experimental greenhouses aim at gathering conclusive evidence of the
benefits of their wider application as part of a holistic strategy.
The greenhouse allows frugal water management by using only a tenth to one thirtieth of
the amount needed for open-filed irrigation. In the desert, which has a high percentage of
sunny days throughout the year, this is clearly a significant factor. Because of Arcosanti's
altitude cold winters are problematic to crop growth but within the greenhouses the growing
season can be extended all year round, doubling the yield. During the winter, crops in the
greenhouse grow much faster and without the stress of frost. A larger variety of food can also
be grown which can supply the cafe and residents with salad greens which grow quickly and
remain tender because of protection from temperature extremes and winds. The greenhouses
also contain flowers, herbs, and tomatoes year round and keep a variety of crops planted
98 Soleri, Technology and Cosmogenesis (1985), pp. 138-9
99 P. Soleri, Double Exedra: the Indian School Proposal (Unpublished Cosanti Foundation Paper, 1991), p.
12
successively for continuous harvest.
Paolo Soleri has long advocated the need to redefine the American Dream before it spreads
too far across the overpopulated developing world. His alternative within arcology attempts
to reconcile individuals and community needs, and economic realities and motives; with
ecological awareness and cultural achievement, and aims to bring us back from the brink of
an impending and insane attack on our Earth's ability to sustain us. The project was
represented at the EXPO 2000 in Hannover, Germany where the theme was ‘HumankindNature-Technology: A new world arising’. Along with Curitiba, in Brazil, Arcosanti was chosen
as one of the featured 'Projects around the World'.
Through the years, Soleri has been variously described as either a madman, a practitioner of
some obscure religious order, or a visionary.100 His theoretical writing is cryptic, his style
complex and philosophical. In 1991, in describing the Edge City Joel Garreau identifies a
common problem in the interpretation of his ideas:
Soleri is still out there in the desert in Arizona building Arcosanti…But he keeps talking about
eschatology and nobody can understand…a thing he says, so he has had little practical
influence in current urban planning. 101
This is now changing. While we may not understand or agree with everything he says,
more people, particularly those involved in shaping the built environment, are moving
towards Soleri’s way of thinking. Today governments in China, India and Japan are seeking
out Soleri's advice on urban development issues. Environmentalists have recently nominated
him for a Nobel Peace prize.
If our society is to be sustainable, human imagination, ingenuity, energy, and labour must
be directed to the building (and reconstruction) of cities that future generations can inhabit
within an improved ecological setting. Perhaps while Arcosanti lacks the level of funding and
resources that would see it grow in scale as a fully operational living, working community of
five to six thousand, the real value of the work going on there is not so much in defining a
specific prototypical solution but in offering both a 'critical norm' against which we can
measure existing urban environments. It also offers something that, in our all-too-cynical
postmodern world, is rather unique - an activist engaged strategy that advocates the
possibility of building our dreams and visions. In a world plagued by so many problems, and
blessed with so few alternatives, this may prove to be the most important lesson of all. Above
all, Arcosanti offers a beacon of hope for a more sustainable future.
In any case this morning at a meeting held around dawn in front of the project's main
100 See, for example, P. Plagens, 'A Visit to Soleri's Eldorado' in Art in America 67 (1979), pp. 65-71; J. C.
Glen, 'Prototype Communities of Tomorrow: Arcosanti' in The Futurist 14 (1980), pp. 35-43; J. T. McFadyen,
'The Abbot of Arcosanti' in Horizon 23 (1980), pp, 54-61, ; M. B. Pennington, 'Arcosanti Monastery No, 1' in
America 144 (March 14, 1981), pp. 207-9; N. M. Bloom, 'Human Beehives: Paolo Soleri's Arcosanti' in
Science Digest (March 1981), pp. 42-7; M. Grossworth, 'Arcosanti: A Laboratory for the Living' in SciQuest
54 (1981), p. 11-15; D. W. Dunlap, 'Future Metropolis' in Omni 7 (October 1984), pp. 116-24 P. Weingarten,
'Futuristic City: a Radical Vision Still Out of Focus' in Chicago Tribune (July 10, 1988); L. David, 'Paolo
Soleri : Man for All Seasons' in Ad Astra 1 (November 1990), p. 31; 'Paolo Soleri's Arcology: Updating the
Prognosis' in Progressive Architecture 72 (March 1991), pp. 76-8; M. Pastin, 'For Selfish Reasons,
Arizonians Should Look Again to Arcosanti' in Business Journal (May 20, 1991)
101 Garreau, J. Edge City: Life on the New Frontier (Anchor, New York, 1992), p. 249
vaults a small group of people will have been discussing the daily work programme. Others
can decide whether the work is experimental or utopian, a science fiction fantasy, an
Orwellian nightmare, or a new evolutionary stage in the progress of the human spirit. They
have some unfinished business to be getting on with and they’ll be measuring their own
progress by the amount of concrete they manage to pour today.
The Trouble with Autocratic Architecture:
A critical and cocreative look at Paolo Soleri’s Arcosanti Project
Doctress Neutopia
dedicated to bringing "conscientization" to the Arcosanti community
Arcosanti Web Site: www.arcosanti.org
"In vain we build the city if we do not first build the man." Edwin Markham
Spring 2001
I recently left Arcosanti after living there for a year and a half. I wish to share some insights
about the project and some ideas on how to improve it. Living at Arcosanti allowed me to
visualize what life might be like in a prototype arcology of 7,000 people because of the
communal nature of an arcology.
During my stay at Arcosanti, which now has a population of around sixty people, I realized
that a revolutionary design does not alone build a functioning city. An arcology (architecture
fused with ecology,) is the revolutionary architectural design that Paolo Soleri advocates.
Arcosanti, in its future form, wishes to prototype an arcology. I have concluded that is only
part of the formula for creating an alternative development model to the urban sprawl. Also
needed is a social architecture that allows for community development. Community
development should be seen as contributing a value equal to the physical structure. In other
words, the sociological foundation is just as important to the health of the Arcosanti project
as its physical foundation. But a positive sociological foundation is not being laid.
Social Architecture as part of the Arcology Equation
Creating a social architecture within an arcological framework will require networking and a
multidisciplinary approach to the creative process. Futurist Barbara Marx Hubbard, in her
work Conscious Evolution, writes, "conscious evolution is a metadiscipline; the purpose of
this metadiscipline is to learn how to be responsible for the ethical guidance of our evolution"
(58).
Hubbard clearly states our problem in the following:
In the midst of our confusion, however, a new story of evolution is emerging that has the
potential to inspire us to creative action. It is coming from the combined insights of many
disciplines; scientific, historical, psychological, ecological, social, spiritual, and futuristic. But
it has not yet found its artistic or popular expression. We discover fragments in journals,
poems, books, lectures, conferences, seminars, and networks of those interested in it. We see
flashes in science fiction films. But it has not yet been pieced together and told with the
power required to awaken the social potential within us and to guide us in the 21st century
towards a future of infinite possibilities" (24).
The new worldview already exists in an early stage. There is a large and growing body of
knowledge in almost every area—science, psychology, cosmology, art, literature, philosophy,
and business — but there is not a definable field called conscious evolution to coordinate all
the separate insights (63).
Arcology is the artistic and architectural expression needed to build a new story because
architecture has the potential to bring together the evolutionary consciousnesses about which
Barbara Hubbard writes. Building an arcology could allow us to focus our energy and
coordinate all the parts into a holistic structure. Hubbard writes, "I believe that collectively,
we do know how to coordinate ourselves as a whole, how to handle our waste, shift to
renewable resources, and awaken to our unique, new roles in the maturation of our species. If
the crisis is natural, so is the response" (68). What could be more natural to us than to build a
new form of architecture in which to test our ideas? As Soleri said before he rejected the idea
of a spiritual realm, "the bridge between matter and spirit is matter becoming spirit". But
whatever Soleri now thinks of the concept of "spirit," arcology is matter becoming spirit. It is
a concrete way for us to visualize conscious evolution in creative, labor intensive action.
In The First House R.D. Dripp’s writes that the word "construct" is derived from the Latin,
construere meaning "to heap together, to pile up or to fit together" (66). One of the roots of
construct is "construe" which means, "to interpret, to put a meaning on or to explain" (66).
Even though "construct" has more reference to parts, "construe" refers more to the whole,
synthesizing the parts, giving the whole the "task of directing its own assembly." Dripps
continues:
Constructing must be both a synthetic and an analytic activity. In a synthetic
mode, the human being is putting together a complete world in order to secure a
place within it. This world becomes believable as a guide for action to the degree
that it appears a unity, holding together both intellectually and physically. This is
the role of paradigmatic structure, which is always directed toward unity,
synthesis, and closure. The world that it reveals is a cosmos whose synthetic unity
can subsume ourselves and an unmediated nature within is own order (67).
In other words, to construct requires a "mental structure through which the physical structure
of the institution is realized" (73).
If this statement rings true for the Arcosanti project, the construction site exists because of
the social architecture that is enabling the physical construction to take place. Arcosanti, then,
could not exist without a political organization in place. For the past 30 years the political
structure in place has been an autocracy. To say that Arcosanti is only a "construction site"
that does not have to bother with community and cultural development or building an internal
infrastructure as Paolo claims is simply a false statement. Arcology, the fusion of the hut and
the city, has both an outside and an inside.
R. D. Dripps goes on to explain the profound connection between origins of speech and the
origins of architecture. Spatial reasoning allows humans to build architecture by orienting
themselves in the world. He writes, "Speech, then has a political intention. It is through
speech that the collective works out what it means to live the good life together. Architecture
locates this collective in the world" (16). The gathering of people initiates the discourse in
which architecture is derived. Thus architecture works from the inside out, from collective
speech to personal action.
Needed Dialogues
So, then, what are the dialogues being ignored by Soleri yet needed to build a prototype
arcology?
Part of the Dialogue: Solar Energy and Sustainable Economic Development
Economically sustainable development should be one of the main points in the dialogue. An
arcology should include a new economic model, one that combines the best elements of the
past economic experiments to create a new level social equity. An architecture that is based on
economic and social equity will be designed differently than one that supports a plutocratic
and hyperconsumerist class at the top of the social status.
In order for us to build a sustainable economy within an ecological architecture, new ways of
thinking are necessary. Fritjof Capra points out in his book The Web of Life that a sustainable
economy is one that imitates nature’s cyclical systems, not the linear model which our
industrial civilization is based on now. Industries take resources, make products with them,
leave waste behind in the process, sell the products to consumers who then leave more wastes
behind after the products are consumed. "Capra writes, "To achieve such cyclical patterns we
need to fundamentally redesign our businesses and our economy. (299). Since everything is
interconnected, then we should also redesigning our architectural patterns of development. It
follows that we need to be designing both architecture and industries to use renewal energies
and convert the industrial economy that emphasizes "competition, expansion, and
domination" to an ecological economy that emphasizes "cooperation, conservation, and
partnership." This is the essence of ecofeminist thought listed in Greta Gaard’s book,
Ecological Politics, Ecofeminism and the Greens (144-145).
Soleri is not concerned with designing with renewable solar energies in its various forms
because he feels that such power sources are not really an essential part of proving the value
of an arcology. For him, it might be that nuclear power might work best to energize an
arcology. He feels that solar panels, for example, are mere "trinkets" and he does not want
them as part of his grand design.
Part of the Dialogue: The Role of Women and Children
The roles of women and children within an arcology also are critical to the dialogue. Architects
should look at political factors in the city-making process because different forms of power
create different public/private spaces. For example, in cities where children’s educational
needs are valued, space will be provided for nurseries and educational facilities. In such
societies, childcare centers and educational facilities are not after thoughts in the design
schemes. They are part of the blueprints for healthy societies that value both the needs of
working women and men and for the education and care of their offspring. But in its thirty
year existence, Soleri has failed to establish a school for children or even a child care center.
His reason for this is that he feels mothers can take their children to work with them as they
did when he was growing up in fascist Italy.
Part of the Dialogue: Work and Self-Actualization
This brings up the topic of work within an arcology designed for sheltering and sustaining
conscious evolution. Abraham Maslow’s research on self-actualization showed that the
healthiest, most self-actualized people in a society are the ones who engage in chosen work by
following an inward vocation or calling. One could say that these individuals are following
their conscious, not only for self interest, but for the purpose of planetary evolution.
Hubbard writes, "Cocreation does not mean service at the sacrifice of self; it means service
through the actualization of self. Self-actualization occurs when we find our vocations and
express them meaningfully in the world" (112).
The present management system at Arcosanti expects people to sacrifice their selves to serve
the project. Self-actualization is not seen as important to the project and people are treated as
dispensable. The only visionary who matters at Arcosanti is the architect, Paolo Soleri.
Everyone else must sacrifice his or her self to him.
Take my experience, for example. After the Paradox Project (an attempt to build a team to
bring together cyberspace and arcology at Arcosanti) failed, I submitted a list of jobs I felt the
project needed and I had a desire to do. My suggestions included building an electronic
newsletter for alumni, expanding the workshop curriculum, and networking over the Internet
with other organizations who are working with similar ideas. Those ideas were rejected. I was
told that if I wanted to stay at the project, then I would have to sacrifice what I felt I was
called to do and take on a job in the bronze foundry casting Soleri bells to be sold in the
gallery. This felt like a slavery. Holding an Ed.D. degree, I felt that working in a foundry was a
waste of my education and talent for both Arcosanti and myself. It also promised to be a
more physically demanding occupation than it is wise to begin at my age.
That did not mean that I was unwilling to do my share and more of the various maintenance
and menial tasks that are needed in the community. Since I am an educator/artist, however, I
did not want those jobs to be my main employment on site. They are not the kinds of jobs
that could lead to my own self-actualization. I felt that they wanted me to fit into a bell mold
rather than to bring more personal diversity and, therefore, more complexity into the project.
Mary Hoadley, the Site Coordinator said to me on several occasions that she had to make
major sacrifices in her life to be part of the project. She made them because she felt that the
sacrifice is needed to create something bigger than herself. But my question is: how can we
ever reach the stage of conscious evolution if we fail to develop ourselves in the service of the
other? Perhaps Mary Hoadley’s kind of thinking is necessary for autocratic, patriarchal forms
of government, but how can it work in a democracy where each individual has a stake in the
decision making process? Without self-knowledge and actualization of the self, democracy
cannot properly exist! But in a self-sacrificing system, autocracy can thrive!
So the managers determined that the creative gifts and skills I had to offer the project were
unacceptable, except for menial labor. Only by sacrificing my life to the project and doing
work that I did not want to do could I remain on the Arcosanti site. I was also told by one of
the managers that the Arcosanti project could not financially afford to pay me for the work I
wanted to do for the project or even could afford to have me stay on as a volunteer because
the room I occupied at Arcosanti was needed for someone who could make money for them in
their for-profit million dollar bell factory. Apparently, the non-profit part of the organization,
the Cosanti Foundation, had no desire to put money into education or networking.
Alas, I had to find out the hard way that even with Soleri’s rhetoric of the "lean society"
concept, the bottom line at Arcosanti, like elsewhere in Corporate America, is the dollar.
Making money was more important to them than hiring educators. After becoming part of the
Paradox team, I realized that I was not the kind of person Soleri was hoping to attract to the
Paradox Program. He wasn’t hoping to attract idealistic cyberians of high character who were
interested in working toward building a network of arcologies in cyberspace and real life. Oh
no! As the director of the program said to me on numerous occasions, Soleri’s real reason for
starting the Paradox Project was to attract the "1% of the 1%" who might be willing to give
some of the millions of dollars he or she had made on a dot.com company to the Foundation.
With that money, Soleri could build more of his project. Soleri’s motivation for the Paradox
Project was to attract money, not people with character. It seemed that no one but me felt
that this was a corrupt mission for the Paradox Project.
Albert Camus wrote, "Ends do not justify means, but rather means justify means, and means
have a way of becoming ends, so it is well to be scrupulous and uncompromising as to
means." When one focuses on process rather than outcome, then one sees that "means
embody the ends." Why does Soleri need to contemplate the means to his end? Only then will
he see that he could not have created the 2% of the Arcosanti project alone. He needed the
help of 3,000 or so workshoppers. The trouble is he doesn’t want to acknowledge them as
stakeholders in his vision and his property because he fears democratic decision-making might
corrupt his design plans. In Neil Leach’s book, The Anaesthetics of Architecture, he asks,
The most disturbing question, therefore, is not how architecture might be appropriated and
exploited by various fascistic regimes, but how architectural culture might itself register a
certain fascistic impulse. Here fascism must be understood not in its specific historical sense,
but in the generic sense of the excessive use or abuse of any form of power, whether by the
left or the right. Certainly, there are remarkable parallels to be drawn between images of
dictators, such as Ceausescu or Hitler, inspecting architectural models, and those of architects
themselves in similar situations (26-27).
Leach concludes that in every architect there is a potential fascist. Those who have had
personal dealings with Soleri know this statement seems to be true.
Arcosanti would be a radically different place if Soleri chose to focus his attention on how to
create social justice, democracy and a synergic culture within the Arcosanti organization rather
than focusing his attention on his Omega Seed hypothesis. That hypothesis focuses on the
End of Time, billions of years from now, while in his next breath Soleri preaches that the
future does not exist. This is a way he can escape dealing with issues of the here and now
such as the rights of workers at Arcosanti.
Part of the Dialogue: Architecture for Art’s Sake or for the People’s Sake?
Another escape tactic Soleri uses to avoid dialogues involving ethics at Arcosanti is to say
that he is only creating a container, "form for forms sake". Or is it "art for art’s sake"? In
either case, architecture becomes abstracted from its political and social content as if
architecture was an art object and not a space for lived experience. Leach writes, "with
aestheticization a social and political displacement occurs whereby ethical concerns are
replaced by aesthetic ones. A political agenda is judged, therefore, not according to its intrinsic
ethical status but according to the appeal of its outward appearance" (19). He writes that
whenever politics becomes aestheticized, then the society is at risk of fascism.
Even though Soleri says that he is trying to evolutionize civilization by erecting a radical
architecture, by aestheticizing Arcosanti he is in fact playing the power game for post-modern
architects who have no intention of looking at the underlying political foundations of their
architecture. Leach continues, "As a consequence, "good design" is often thought to have a
significant social and political impact. By extension, what is considered "radical" within the
domain of architecture is likewise thought to be "radical" from a socio-political perspective
(68). Leach warns us of the danger of thinking that a radical aesthetics parallels with a radical
politics since in Soleri’s case, a radical architecture is a mask for reactionary politics. He
writes, "Architectural culture will always be susceptible to a reactionary politics, not despite
its façade of radicalism but precisely because of it, a façade that is no more than a façade of
aesthetic radicalism" (69). To look at the foundations of architecture, Soleri would have to
look at workers relationship to the property and figure out an equitable solution to the
ownership problem.
Had Soleri concerned himself more with social justice, the culture at Arcosanti would be a
more healthy, creative atmosphere. Instead, it is an atmosphere cursed with all the problems
inherent in a drug and alcohol culture, the kind of culture that has plagued the Arcosanti
project for decades. One thing the Arcosanti project proves, as in the mainstream American
society that he says he is trying to overcome, an oppressed people turn to abusing drugs and
alcohol to escape feelings of disempowerment, lack of meaning in their lives, and exploitation.
Arcosanti is not about working for the future of humanity. It is about working for the vision
of one man who is on top of the social pyramid just like the other cities of intoxication around
the globe whose cities are ruled by a power elite. Workers quite naturally become hedonistic
and prone to apathy when they are not in control of their own destiny, mere pawns to the
king/landlord.
Part of the Dialogue: Public decision making
Another example of why it is imperative for a future dialogue to question social and political
factors when designing architecture is that in a totalitarian society there is little space
provided for general assemblies and public gatherings since in autocratic societies such open
spaces are not required for rulership. On the other hand, in democratic societies space is
provided for general assemblies such as "town squares." Political forms are reflections of
psychological states of mind that seek expression through architecture. Cities that value
individual freedom and social intercourse will be reflected in the architectural foundations.
Even though at Arcosanti space is given to the performing arts and there are open spaces such
as the Vaults where public assemblies are conducted, the important decisions that affect the
future of the project are made behind closed doors where the workers/residents do not have
access. This certainly proves that architecture, the container, is not responsible for political
freedom. Even within an arcology designed to bring people together, what Soleri calls "the
urban effect," if the government is fascist and secretive, democratic spaces will not be used for
open decision-making processes. The Arcosanti project proves architecture does not shape
people, power relationships between humans do. In an interview "Space, Knowledge, Power,"
Michael Foucault looks at Bentham’s panopticon, a building designed to be the perfect
prison, to comment on the link between architecture and a politics of use. Leach writes, "All
that architectural form can hope to achieve is to hinder or prevent a certain politics of use.
Architectural form in itself cannot be liberating, although it can produce "positive effects"
when the "liberating intentions of the architect" coincide with "the real practices of people in
the exercise of their freedom" (32). The best architecture can do is to offer a space that invites
a certain politics of use.
Part of the Dialogue: Transportation needs
And finally another example of why it is important not to divide the social sphere, or what
Teilhard de Chardin called the noosphere (the place where language and culture are created),
from the physical sphere in the dialogue on how to create an arcology can be seen through our
transportation needs. Cities that are designed for pedestrians are going to be compact,
designed for mass transportation needs, not the needs of individuals using private
transportation such as the automobile to travel miles and miles to get from here to there in
urban sprawl. A society focused on supporting the use of the private automobile at the
expense of developing mass transportation obviously values private wealth and classism
rather than equal opportunity for all citizens including the young and the old to meet their
transportation needs without causing stress to the global ecology. Taking care of the
transportation needs of everyone instead of the privileged class who can afford and have the
skills needed to drive cars is a different psychological state of mind than only thinking about
the needs of the few.
Even though the official word at Arcosanti is that they are trying to create the world’s first
car-free city, private cars are very much a necessity for residents of Arcosanti. Those with
cars are a privileged class at Arcosanti and those without cars feel trapped on site. Since there
is no community car that residents can share, people without cars are at the mercy of those
with cars to give them rides off site. This is not the way to create a lean society model when
some people on site have one, two and even seven cars and other people have no access to
automobiles. Those who are living the leanest lifestyle of not owning a car are at a
disadvantage to those who have the power of private automobile transportation.
Soleri, of course, is one of the car owners. He does not concern himself with the lives those
without cars who have difficulty finding rides off site to visit the doctor for example. He will
say that they are a poor community. Other managers have told me that in the past they have
had communal cars, but the people who used them did not know how to take care of them and
so their need for a communal car was suspended. Soleri needs a private car to commute back
and forth to his single family house in Phoenix where he lives alone at his Consanti
Foundation compound. At Arcosanti no resources are provided to train people to learn to
value communal property. So it is understandable why communal property is not taken care
of when workshoppers come to the project from mainstream society.
Soleri has chosen not to take a serious look at the psychological space within an arcology.
After the arcology is built, he says, it will be up to the people who live there to decide on
their governance and economic structure. What he fails to acknowledge is that certain political,
cultural, and economic forces are responsible for building the arcology in the first place and it
is those powers that will determine the social architecture within the container of an arcology.
Onsite coordinator Tomiaki Tamura said to me that Soleri’s "lean society" concept is pure
music (the social architecture). So, who is Soleri trying to fool by telling us he is only building
the instrument (the architecture)?
Politics of Arcology
Even though Soleri says that arcology cannot exist without "the lean society model" he also
has stated that any sort of governance and economic structure could work within an
arcology—totalitarianism, fascism, capitalism, socialism, communism, democracy or
autocracy. In his worldview, political and economic frameworks are secondary to building the
architectural foundation. As the master architect of Arcosanti, he feels it is not his place to
discriminate or make ethical judgements about political structures. For him the container is
apolitical. One influential architects on thinking, Le Corbusier, felt the same way and would
have worked for the Nazis if they had given him the chance to build his "Radiant City."
Jonathan Barnett writes in The Elusive City: Five Centuries of Design, Ambition and
Miscalculation,
Le Corbusier himself made no secret of his belief that city design required an autocratic
government that would put someone like himself in charge of all new building. He even made a
little sketch of a government decree that he believed should put the implementation of the
Voisin Plan in motion. For Le Corbusier, power was more important than ideology. He was a
member of the proto-fascist Redressement Francais during the 1920s, sought to work for the
Soviets, visited Italy and wrote favorably of Mussolini, and then spent eighteen months after
the German occupation in 1941 trying to persuade the Nazi-sponsored Vichy government of
France to implement his plan for Algiers. (115)
In the ‘70s Soleri went to visit the Shah of Iran in hopes of building an arcology for him. He
did not get to talk with the Shah directly, but with a female relative. The final outcome of the
meeting was they were not interested in the arcology idea because people living so close
together in an arcology could lead to more open communication. My purpose here is to point
out that perhaps if given the chance to build an arcology, Soleri would not care if his client is a
notorious human rights abuser the world over.
Clearly there are ethics intrinsic to architecture that determine if the culture is one based on
individual liberties and social creativity or one that it based on social conformity and mental
slavery. It is ironic that Soleri invented the word, "esthe-quity" to describe the need to
combine the word aesthetics and equity as a founding principle of arcology. In order to create
a society based on "esthe-quity," then do we have to think in terms of equity and how to
redistribute power and wealth fairly in order to create a beautifully ordered arcology? These
are major themes running through 2,000 years of experiments in communal living. Soleri
rejects such thinking. He treats communal studies as irreverent to the Arcosanti project! But
for him, people don’t count. Pouring concrete is what counts.
Since Soleri is only concerned with building a container, he doesn’t think about the people
part of the Arcosanti design. People friendly "frills" such as sound proofing, heat insulation,
sustainable energy sources, handicap access, being able to grow enough food for the
community, child safe spaces, or the various housing needs of people are ignored. I do not
think he worries about the café being infested with roaches or that the vegetables he ships into
the café are conventionally grown with pesticides from California. Since he does not live at
Arcosanti full time it does not bother him that his architecture is too cold in the winter and
too hot in the summer or that the "cubes" provided for the workers are substandard housing.
He has a good view from his apartment window of "Camp." Camp is the workshopper
shanty town. Meanwhile Soleri preaches to the workers at his "School of Thought" sessions
about his ideas of equity that will happen at the time of the Big Crunch billions of years from
now. Although he does not want his arcology theory or Arcosanti to be viewed as a utopian
experiment he is guilty of building such a structure. Leach explains, "Utopian architectural
visions came to be seen as abstract aesthetic experiments of an architectural elite out of touch
not only with the taste but also, more importantly, with the practical needs of the populace"
(11). Soleri does not care about the needs of the populace at Arcosanti.
By ignoring the function of community and cocreative public space within his pedestrian city
model, Soleri fails to address the role community and public space plays in the design
process. This leads to a distorted view of reality as if the autocratic father architect can know
all and be all to the people, never asking the people what they need. Arcosanti becomes part
of what cultural critics call "architecture of spectacle" because what it is designed for is to
create an image, are not for people. Leach writes,
The sensory stimulation induced by these images may have a narcotic effect that diminishes
social and political awareness, leaving architects cosseted within their aesthetic cocoons,
remote from the actual concerns of everyday life. In the intoxicating world of the image, it is
argued, that aesthetics of architecture threaten to become the anaesthetics of architecture. The
intoxication of the aesthetic leads to an aesthetics of intoxication, and a consequent lowering
of critical awareness (viii).
Arcosanti, then, becomes as unreal a living space for the general populace as living at
Disneyland would be. Tourists can see no way to participate in the project other than through
virtual participation of donating money. The best they can do is to take a one hour tour and
during that time realize that Arcosanti is really not a viable alternative to the urban sprawl
since it too is trapped in the hyperreality of the ideal image. Arcosanti becomes part of the
make-believe world of the culture of consumption, as fake as a Hollywood stage set rather
than a real alternative. Arcosanti provides no way for tourists to think in terms of selling their
houses to move into an "ecological architecture" that supports a green lifestyle. Why?
Because Arcosanti is not a sustainable community. Fritjof Capra writes "This, in a nutshell,
is the great challenge of our time: to create sustainable communities--that is to say, social and
cultural environments in which we can satisfy our needs and aspirations without diminishing
the chances of the next generation" (6).
Unfortunately for Arcosanti and for the world, the spectacle architecture of Arcosanti is built
upon the same one-sided top-down dysfunctional hierarchy as in the old civilization that
doesn’t allow for individual grass-roots democratic "decentralization" of power that is
supportive and encourages the cocreative process outlined by Hubbard’s Conscious
Evolution. It makes arcology an objective model that has no subjective core.
Even though Soleri writes about the "internalization of arcology," in practice he ignores the
subjective core of the project leaving the project without a balance between the external and
the internal, the physical and the psychological, the individual and the universal, the spiritual
and the material, mind and matter. This division between the mind and matter, etc., is a false
duality that only causes us to not be able to think in holistic terms vital to being able to build
an evolutionary arcology. An evolutionary architecture needs an evolutionary social
theory—conscious evolution-- to inspire people to want to participate in cocreating a
radically new lifestyle. Hubbard writes, "It is a vision of the birth of a universal species, a
quantum jump from Homo sapiens to Homo ‘universalis,’ from the self-conscious human to
the cosmic conscious, cocreative human" (54). This quantum transformation in consciousness
requires a new form to house ourselves in, aligning ourselves in a more wholesome
relationship with nature. Hence, among the "cultural creatives" there is a psychological
necessary for constructing an arcology to accommodate a conscious evolution.
The Oppression of Synergic Power at Arcosanti
I do not completely fault Soleri for his lack of subjective understanding. To create both a
social architecture and a physical architecture for a new paradigm is too much to ask of one
human being. That is why a collective sense of reality is needed for a project on the level of
building an arcology. So perhaps what is needed to evolve our physical structures is not
autocratic domination but synergic power.
Synergic power is the "power to use with people, not over or against them." In their book
Synergic Power beyond Domination and Permissiveness, James H. and Marge Craig write,
"By synergic power we mean: the capacity of an individual or group to increase the
satisfactions of all participants by intentionally generating increased energy and creativity, all
of which is used to co-create a more rewarding present and future" (62). They say that
synergy occurs when unlike elements work together to create "desirable results unobtainable
from any combination of independent efforts" (62). This does not mean that we would not
have leaders, only that leaders "shares both his [sic] vision and his [sic] knowledge, when he
[sic] encourages a free and open sharing among his [sic] fellows of their knowledge and
desires, and guides a synthesis of all these toward creating and carrying out jointly-devised
programs" (62).
Hubbard has a similar idea, "For in the process of coming together to solve problems, we
ourselves are changed, our genius codes join, and something greater than ourselves emerges
from our union with other kindred souls" (153). Examples of synergic power are rare in
human history. But so is creating a new archetype in architecture!
Throughout history we see the use of what the authors call directive power. Directive power
is used to increase the satisfaction of the individual by intentionally shaping and using the
behavior of others to advance his interests. Directive power uses coercion and manipulates
people to act against their better judgement acting against their own interests and the interests
of others. It dehumanizes people by making them oblivious to the fact that they are
responsible for their own actions. In such a system, one places accountability for one’s
actions on external forces, not within themselves. In directive power, one might say, "I was
only following orders," to justify acts of oppression, genocide and exploitation of workers
around the world for the wealth and power of the few. Directive power is used to plan and
enact wars. In Soleri’s case directive power is used to build an unsustainable city.
To create and maintain peace requires synergy through "sharing power, exchanging ideas,
expressing concern for each other’s need, and jointly devising solutions that answer to the
needs of all." (62) The authors ask this extremely important question, "Does the human
species have the capacity to build communities and societies that promote the actualization of
all their members’ human potential? After all, if people are inherently incapable of effectively
working together without strong directive leadership there’s little point in looking toward
synergic power to humanize society, and we should probably direct our efforts toward
transferring the control of society and the world from exploitive oligarchies to the most
benevolent despots we can find or can develop" (91). The authors admit that for synergic
enlightenment to be demonstrable we have to "design and build a caring community or society
fit for fully evolved humans" (84). Isn’t this really what Arcosanti is out to be about?
By not allowing the arcology idea to join with ideas resonating the same quality and ability to
move humanity in a life affirming direction, that is, hauling the phenomena of synergic power- Soleri has built a moat around Arcosanti. It becomes a gated community where he attempts
to control thought. Words such as "spirit," "mind," "utopia," "future," are seen as being part
of an animistic world view and are scorned by the founder and his followers as being
delusional. For Soleri, life is nothing but science, chemistry in our brains making constantly
changing geometric patterns.
Seeing life in terms of material science fits right into the current "metaparadigm" that states as
Peter Russell, author of the Global Brain Awakes writes in his Internet slideshow, "Science,
Consciousness and God," "the real world is the material world. Space, time and matter are
primary." Metaparadigms are the paradigms behind the paradigms. In Russell’s way of
thinking the new metaparadigm states that "consciousness is as real and fundamental as space,
time and matter." Everything we know is "in the mind." Or, as it was written in the Tibetan
Book of the Great Liberation, "Matter is derived from mind, not mind from matter." Or as
my mentor Dame Phyllis Rodin says, "We are not the body. We are in a body."
But for Soleri there is no mind or spirit. There is only brain. Soleri fails to comprehend the
words of Capra when he writes, "Ultimately, deep ecological awareness is spiritual or
religious awareness. When the concept of the human spirit is understood as the mode of
consciousness in which the individual feels a sense of belonging, of connectedness to the
cosmos as a whole, it becomes clear than ecological awareness is spiritual in its deepest
essence" (7). Because of this intellectual invisible gate that Soleri has mentally constructed by
saying that there is no spiritual dimension to "ecological architecture," Arcosanti becomes a
Paolo cult. The almost impossibility of new ideas joining with his own is the antithesis of
growth. Arcosanti has changed little in twenty years, crumbling apart before it is well begun,
let alone completed. It has become more on the lines of a Paolo mansion, rather than the
collective effort a city-making project demands.
What I fault Soleri for is not being able to listen to people who have other insights into the
theory of arcology. It is as if he is the sole owner of the idea, his intellectual property.
Perhaps it is a problem with ego. He is stuck in the 20th Century model of the isolated genius
working to save the human species alone in an alienated world. What hubris to think that since
he coined the word of arcology he is in sole possession of it, especially since the ideas of high
density population surrounded by recreational or agricultural land--the essence of the arcology
concept-- can be witnessed in the Native American ruins at such places as Tuzigoot and
Montezuma’s Castle; just down the highway from Arcosanti. When someone offers
constructive criticism necessary for improving the place for the people who live there, Soleri’s
typical response to her or him is, "If you don’t like what I’m are going at Arcosanti, then get
off my mesa!" Constructive criticism is not welcome.
Collective Unconsciouness
It is much more likely that arcology, even though the ideas were crystallize through Soleri, is
part of what Carl Jung calls the collective unconsciousness, that is, archetypes we all share
and collectively need to be conscious of in order for the sustainable city-making process to
emerge. Hubbard asks, "We now know that a plan of action or program is encoded in the
genes of every living organism that guides it from conception through gestation, birth,
maturation, and death. Planet Earth is a living system. Is it not possible, then, that there is a
prepatterned (but not a predetermined) pattern or tendency, an encoded design for planetary
evolution just as there is for biological evolution? (18) What I am suggesting is that arcology is
such a prepattern. We all have a stake in arcology, every person, plant and animal in the
world. The economic and social structures at Arcosanti should reflect our stake. But they do
not.
Even in science, the model of one individual genius making a revolutionary break through
doesn’t work in a world where a combination of knowledge is required in order to understand
the way the universe works. Micho Kaku writes in his book Visions, "of course, no one
person can invent the future. There is simply too much accumulated knowledge, there are too
many possibilities and too many specializations. In fact, most predictions of the future have
floundered because they have reflected the eccentric, often narrow viewpoints of a single
individual" (ix). In order to comprehend universal patterns central to constructing an
evolutionary architecture, it requires us to recognize relationships with our intellectual peers
who are working in different disciplines within a similar value system. We begin to not focus
on "basic building blocks, but on basic principles of organization" (Capra 1996, 30),
recognizing that reality consists of relationships rather than concrete building blocks. Capra
writes,
Ultimately — as quantum physics showed so dramatically — there are no parts at all. What
we call a part is merely a pattern in an inseparable web of relationships. Therefore the shift
from parts to the whole can also be seen as a shift from objects to relationships. In a sense,
this is a figure/ground shift. In the mechanistic view, of the world is a collection of objects.
These, or course, interact with one another, and hence there are relationships among them. But
the relationships are secondary…In the systems view, we realize that the objects themselves
are networks of relationships embedded in larger networks. For the system thinker the
relationships are primary (37).
In the new scientific paradigm, ecology, is perceived as networks of relationships within
networks of relationships. If ecology is networks, then it would seem logical to think that
ecological architecture is not based on building blocks, but networks of relationships, not
hierarchies where one order is master over another, but a system where no part is more
fundamental than another since they make up the web of life. It also means being able to bond
with like-minded people out of the love for the beauty of recombination. As they say, "the
whole is greater than the sum of the parts." An integrated whole arises because of the
relationship between the parts.
If this is true then no man or woman has the power to pull the whole together alone. That is
the basic idea behind my "two as one world philosophy" concept that attempts to unite
arcology and erotic love into an evolved awareness, what Hubbard calls "suprasex."
Hubbard explains, "The next stage of sexuality, suprasex, occurs when our genius is aroused
and we desire to join our genius to cocreate. Suprasexual passion increases in the convergence
zone. We are vocationally aroused at the level of our genius. Instead of joining our genes to
have a child, we join our genius to give birth to our full potential selves and to work that
expresses our combined love…. Brilliant ideas are triggered by the presence of others who
reinforce our own potential" (156). She goes on to use another new word, "telerotics". This
word is a synthesis of telos, the study of the end and eros, passionate love. She concludes, "In
conscious evolution we become "telerotic" in love with the fulfillment of the potential of the
whole" (93).
Since we are embodied consciousnesses this means that forming community with like minded
visionary thinkers, a task that Soleri has difficulty doing even though he has created the
physical space in order to do so, is paramount to our survival. But, of course, Soleri would
need to learn how to share power and collaborate on strategies for our cultural renewal with
individuals who are also working on the development of the arcology theory and practice,
something, in my opinion, he has yet to do. In the autocratic model that Soleri has embedded
himself in for over 30 years, it seems like an impossible task for him to love and honor the
gifts others bring to the arcology project. But Hubbard’s writing gives us hope. She
prophecies,
When we understand our evolutionary potential, however, and awaken to our emerging social,
spiritual, and scientific capacities to fulfil an evolutionary agenda, new political leadership will
cocreate and consciously choose the meme needed to empower it. Society will be activated
with excitement and hope as creative possibilities call forth the potential of millions.
Could this meme be arcology? It will take millions of enlightened people to move us to build a
network of arcologies on Earth and in Outer Space, all energized by a world energy grid of
renewable power. So what is stopping the genius in Soleri from being able to bond with
people who can help him manifest the dream of arcology? Why is the great man Soleri having
such difficultly engaging in conscious evolution?
Memes and the Poetics of Love
After trying to personally engage with Soleri on an idea level for the past year and a half and
having studied his architecture and philosophy, I feel the problem is sexual discrimination at
the meme level. The poetics of Soleri’s thinking is that we are moving towards what he calls
the Omega Seed at the end of time. But when I said to him that if there is an Omega Seed at
the end of time, then there has got to be an Alpha Ovum at the new beginning, he harshly
rejected that idea insulting me by saying that all I thought about was sex. He told me that I
had no future with the project which led to my termination.
What I had to conclude from this rejection is that what Soleri fears most is the power of
women to give birth. Even though in suprasexual relationships, the goal is to join memes
through cocreation and not necessarily the physical procreation of other human beings,
cultural evolution deals with the birth of ideas that are then made visible through the
noosphere. To engage in metaphysical birth process that conscious evolution requires means
that Soleri could not keep his position as the autocrat over the arcology project. Conception
takes more than one. Women’s role in the cultural birth process could not be ignored. In
essence, he would have to acknowledge the need for suprasex and the partnerships that arise
through the joining together of memes and genes for the greater good of the project. But in
order to do this, he would have to surrender his male superiority and embrace the invisible
powers of teleros, the bond that might be the grand unifying theory of arcology. This is
difficult for Soleri to do since he junks the feminist movement elevating women to be engaged
with society on equal positions with men. He likes the word "femininity," but not feminism.
After all, in his authoritarian way of thinking, what woman could possibly be equal to, or
even rise above, his creative genius? Soleri would benefit by contemplating the following
quote by Walter and Lao Russell from their book, The World Crisis: Its Explanation and
Solution,
Strangely enough, the world has not yet discovered that the motivating lever of Creation is the
universal interchange between father and mother halves of one whole. Whatever is created,
whether mineral, vegetable or animal, is given its existence by the power extended to it by
equal interchange between the equal male and female halves of Creation. Because of the failure
of science to recognize this vital, basic principle of existence, so obvious in Nature
everywhere, and so dynamically manifested in the electric current, the world has had to pay a
dreadful price. The chemist can plainly see this male and female interplay in the perfect cube
which results from the balanced matter of sodium and chlorine and in the imperfect cube
distortions which are the result of unbalanced matings, such as sodium with bromine, iodine or
fluorine.
Perhaps the male egoism would not allow the male to promulgate this idea of equality. It had
to await the inner vision of a woman whose life was dedicated to the correction of this tragic
unbalance, which is now causing the collapse of man-made civilization" (106).
During one of the weekly "School of Thought" sessions, I asked Soleri if he had a creative
partnership with his now deceased wife Colly. His answer was that she was not interested in
his architectural ideas, did not help him in formulating his notions of arcology and his
philosophy of the Omega Seed. She did support him by being his helpmate, providing money
from her inheritance to build his project, and she raised his children along with doing his house
and bookkeeping. He said that what she wanted was to be a traditional wife. Apparently he
did not have the transformative, cocreative type marriage that the Russells were talking about
when they wrote,
Masculinity cannot become completely exalted without balancing it with femininity. Nature’s
law demands the union of equal and opposite mates in all things—spiritual, mental and
physical — in order to consummate her ideas of Creation…. Until this world-home is equally
motivated by man and woman it will be unbalanced in the measure of that inequality. Also, as
long as the motive of money comes before the welfare of man [sic], our civilization will be
increasingly decadent until all that is good and lovely will again go out of it, as it did in the
third to twelfth centuries" (138).
Even though Soleri was able to procreate with his wife, he seems to have been unable to
cocreate with her or with his other lovers in order to form the social architecture of sexual
equality necessary for providing wise and balanced guidance to make Arcosanti all that it
could be as a model of an alternative way of life.
Lessons Learned
The most important lesson I learned while living at Arcosanti is that the physical structure
can only go so far in making a better environment. The way people think and their attitudes
toward each other are the essential factors in creating a healthy and peaceful environment. An
environment where people are encouraged to work on ideas that they love and that contribute
to our understanding of the whole. Architecture is created for people’s happiness and survival
— a way to bring the whole together-- not the other way around. I also realized that without a
new political power base that a partnership society provides, an evolutionary architecture is
not going to generate the massive labor and resources required to produce major building
projects such as building an arcology demands.
My goal here is to reinforce in readers the idea that sexual politics and architecture are
integrally connected. In order to address our pressing social and environmental problems
caused by human habitat and its artificial "separation" from the ecology, I want to address it
coming from an ecofeminist, neutopian perspective because pulling together the physical and
the psychological space is a neutopian project involving a number of different disciplines to
work in unison. Lets call it, education in action or "actucation," the embodiment of changing
thought patterns in an arcological form. Every cell within the individual’s body comes aware
of itself on the microcosmic and macrocosmic scales, understanding its place within the everchanging whole of an arcology.
Even though I feel that addressing the problem of developing an alternative economic model
based on workers cooperatives is critical to its success, it is not where my expertise lies.
Creating an arconomics (arcology and economics) is someone else’s cosmic job, even though I
feel the knowledge that I bring forth in the dialogue — the importance of building sustainable
loving relationships, the essence of community development--is essential to build an
environmental sound sustainable economy.
Sexual Architecture within an Arcology
My task, then, is to focus on a fundamental problem, sexual division and the need to create a
partnership society (the two as one world philosophy) as the foundation of the arcology
model. Looking at how love and family relationships are changing changing in the 21st
Century, we must ask: what kind of architectural structure is needed to support loving
relationships of all kinds? To answer this question we must visualize and enact a society of
sexual balance within an arcological blueprint. We must establish a society that honors
equality and difference as core principles. Some are terming this core value of building a
partnership society as "the politics of meaning" (Michael Lerner) or "holistic politics"
(Marianne Williamson), or a "spiritual democracy" (Frederick Kettner), or "ecolibrium
democracy" (Wulf Zendik). It is what I called the democracy/meritocracy form of
governance/education. Ken Wilber likes to use the term holocracy to describe the order of
things and Barbara Marx Hubbard calls the transfiguration of democracy, a synocracy.
The way that I understand these new terms is that the basic trouble with our civilization is
the inequality of women and men in decision-making positions and world-affairs. Soleri’s case
believes he can create an arcology without the equal contribution of women in the creative idea
process. This is an impossibility in nature because it violates the principle of cocreation. As
long as City in the Image of Man goes unchallenged and the autocrat is the sole master of
Arcosanti, it will be a city of unhappiness, void of the balance of love, a society at war with
itself. Walter and Lao Russell write,
When men and women learn that secret of power which lies in balanced interchange in all
things between the male and female power-force of the universe, they will find that this equal
interchange is the love-principle upon which the universe is founded. They will also find that
their power multiplies in the measure in which they have discovered it. In this discovery also
lies the secret of happiness, for happiness cannot be acquired like a commodity, purchased or
otherwise. Happiness, peace and love are eternally existent and can be acquired by mankind
[sic] in one way only, and that one way is by balanced matings in every transaction of life"
(111).
Building a civilization on networks of love and sexual equality moves us beyond the American
Dream house of the patriarchal family into the realization of one-whole-world family living in
the communalism of arcology. As civilization begins the miniaturization process and mutates
into arcology, the conquest and domination model of development no longer is relevant.
Intraspection and developing the capacities of the character and soul are needed in the new
world of arcologies. We move from a civilization into what Kettner calls a "soulization," a
world in which wo/man’s highest potentials are liberated as the collective soul becomes aware
of itself. Such a world is based on what Wulf Zendik calls, "The Genius Principle."
Wulf Zendik explains the principle as, "when a person is made aware of or brought together
with this particular task, craft or art, she or he has then found a work which may be
performed more efficiently than any other — a work at which they can take great joy and
pride and of which that person is potentially a genius, a natural genius…a society consisting
of such people, people who are geniuses in their individual contributions, such grow into a
more efficient and powerful, a Creative Society---an instructive and inspiring example to the
world — a genius society. This is our objective at Zendik Farm."
At Arcosanti, Soleri has not found the key to freeing the creativity of people. At his place,
there is only room for one genius, himself. Arol Zendik writes, "The function of a healthy
society is to find out what people love to do. We give people the opportunity to find and
pursue their interests and when they do, these geniuses appear that were there all the time,
but hidden." At Arcosanti, no effort is put into finding out what residents love to do, what
their past education and training is, or what skills and knowledge they bring to the project.
Most of the workshoppers who come to Arcosanti have a deep interest in working on a
prototype city that has the potential to live in a more harmonious way with nature. What
they find out is that the management team does not want to listen to them. The management
team does not want to know how they feel they can best contribute to the movement towards
building a world of arcologies.
The move from the external power of civilization towards the inner or the authentic power of
a soulization can be seen in Gary Zukav’s book, The Seat of the Soul. He says that we are
evolving from a five-sensory personality to a multi-sensory personality. Five-sensory
personality believes the Judeo-Christian worldview that we have only one lifetime to
participate in the process of evolution and that the only type of power that exists is material,
external or directive power. In this worldview, it is believed that the self cannot exist outside
one’s lifetime. This worldview leads to the "survival of the fittest" mentality that defines the
most evolved organism as the one who is on top of the food chain, who can "ensure its own
survival" and be able to "serve its self-preservation" (21). Zukav calls for us to comprehend a
deeper understanding of evolution. The truly evolved organism understands that we are
networks of interrelationships of organisms, symbiotically living in self-organizing ways. This
deeper understanding of our self and the environment leads to not living for only our physical
survival but for our planetary survival, that is, for the survival of others.
The multi-sensory personality realizes that the soul can exist outside of time. This idea
compliments the idea of the Buddhist Bodhisattvas (awakening warriors) who out of love and
compassion "has attained a realization of Bodhicitta, a mental state characterized by the
spontaneous and genuine aspiration to attain full enlightenment in order to be of benefit to all
beings." They are reborn into the human species until there is planetary salvation, for since
we are organic creatures, without the all, that is, the biosphere, the one cannot be saved since
human beings a mere part of the web of life. Joanna Macy writes in The World as Self, the
World as Lover,
The awakening to our true self is the awakening to that entirely, breaking out of the prisonself of separated ego. The one who perceives this is the bodhisattva—and we all bodhisattvas
because we are all capable of experiencing that — it is our true nature. We are profoundly
interconnected and therefore we are able to recognize and act upon our deep, intricate, and
intimate inter-existence with each other and all beings. That true nature of ours is already
present in our pain for the world. When we turn our eyes away from that homeless figure, are
we indifferent or is the pain of seeing him or her too great? Do not be easily duped about the
apparent indifference of those around you (191).
Multi-sensory individuals realize both the inner and outer discoveries of science, that there is
both physical and nonphysical dynamics at work in the Multiverse. But the five-sensory
person can only see external power, as in Soleri’s case, even though the idea of arcology using
the formula of what David Suzuki in his book The Sacred Balance calls the four "R’s"-reduce, reuse, recycle and redesign-- is a multi-sensory concept because designing a new
architectural foundation requires looking towards building a network for generations of come.
One could call acts of long-term cocreation living for the future in the here and now.
As multi-sensory personalities, Zukav writes that we are moving into an age of spiritual
partnerships. He defines spiritual partnerships as people coming together with the purpose of
helping equals achieve spiritual growth. He says that we are moving away from the archetype
of traditional marriage where coupling is based on assisting each other on the physical survival
level to obtain shelter, food and water, energy, reproduction and protection— from marriages
that "reflects the perception of power as external"-- to a world where the archetypes of
marriage reflect an inner necessary to combine memes in acts of cocreation. Obtaining material
wealth does not become the glue of marriages, and spiritual growth toward conscious
evolution becomes the genuine bond between lovers.
The sad fact is Soleri rejects the very knowledge that could have the authentic power to move
us into a world of arcologies. Zukav writes, "Communities, nations and cultures — all of our
collective creations — are built upon the values and perceptions of the five-sensory
personality, the values they are reflected by the archetype of marriage" (162). Until Soleri is
reborn into a multi-sensory perspective in order to find union with his creative soulmate, I
don’t think he will have the knowledge to complete the Arcosanti project with integrity,
sexual love and personal freedom as its core. Lao Russell writes,
If women alone controlled all the institutions of civilization, as man now controls them the
resultant effeminate world would be as chaotic in sentimental impracticability as it now is in
the boomerang effects caused by masculine ego.
I do not mean that every institution or business should be staffed equally with men and
women, but I do mean that the feminine influence should not only be equal in effect but equal
in authority. The wife of the President of the United States should have the same authority
vested in her as is vested in her husband, instead of being limited to influencing him in an
advisory capacity without authority. If husband and wife authority is not feasible, then there
should be two presidents, man and woman, of equal authority who must agree as one, as they
do in their own homes (134).
Presently, the Consanti Foundation has one president, Paolo Soleri. No one is equal to his
word. When his wife was alive, her position in the organization was vice-president.
Being the only woman involved with the Paradox Project for more than a year, I watched the
demise of the program run by males who I felt never really listened to my ideas. I experienced
them excusing me from important meetings and dialogues, not returning my e-mails, and
finally pushing me out of a Paradox Project of which I was the onsite coordinator. I have
witnessed the male hierarchy at Arcosanti and how it attempted to crush all the goodness and
evolutionary ideas I brought to the project.
Whatever one calls this new bond of union that is needed to heal the Arcosanti project, it is
clear that new terms are necessary to describe the revolutionary social structures on our
evolutionary cultural horizon. But to succeed in making this quantum transformation in
human relationships, arcology is indispensable. The struggle to free eros from five centuries of
authoritarian architecture is indeed a grand goal that must be accomplished if we want to
create a sustainable, synergic lifestyle. But I dare say that this goal cannot be accomplished
without the fusion of a social and physical architecture — the yin and yang of life-- a holistic
approach to cultural evolution that could finally make Arcosanti a good place to live. Is there
any other way to end fascist architecture than through the power of true love?
Bibliography
Barnett, Jonathan. The Elusive City: Five Centuries of Design, Ambition and
Miscalculation. New York : Harper & Row, 1986.
Capra, Fritjof. The Web of Life. New York: Anchor Books, 1996.
Craig, James H. and Marge. Synergic Power Beyond Domination and Permissiveness.
Berkeley, California: ProActive, 1974.
Dripps, R. D. The First House: Myth, Paradigm, and the Task of Architecture
Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1997.
Gaard, Greta. Ecological Politics: Ecofeminism and the Greens. Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1998.
Hubbard, Barbara Marx. Conscious Evolution: Awakening the Power of Our Social Potential
Novato, California: New World Library, 1998.
Kaku, Michio. Visions: How Science will Revolutionize the 21st Century. New York: Anchor
Books, 1997.
Leach, Neil. The Anaesthetics of Architecture. Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1999.
Macy, Joanna. The World as Self, The World as Lover. Berkeley, California: Parallax, 1991.
Russell, Peter. Internet slide show "Science, Consciousness and God"
http://www.peterussell.com/ScgShow/index.htm
Russell, Water and Lao. The World Crisis: Its Explanation and Solution. Waynesboro, Virgina:
The University of Science and Philosophy, 1958.
Zendik, Arol and Wulf. Zendik Farm "The Genius Principle."
http://www.zendik.org/index.html
Zukav, Gary. The Seat of the Soul. New York: Fireside, 1989.
Part 2
Communities
Camphill Ecovillages
Jan Martin Bang
Abstract
The Camphill Villages were started in Scotland in the 1940’s by refugees from Nazi Austria
inspired by the Anthroposophical ideas developed by Rudolf Steiner in the early years of this
century. Their main activity was to educate handicapped children, and this was extended to
adults in the mid-1950s with the founding of Botton Village in Yorkshire, England. Today
there are about 100 villages world-wide, in twenty countries, mainly in Europe, but also in
North America, South Africa, Russia and Eastern Europe.
Most villages comprise a biodynamic farm, and various workshops including bakeries,
weaveries, and other handicraft workshops. There is generally a high degree of self-sufficiency
and a good deal of environmental awareness. The spiritual and cultural life of the communities
is based on Anthroposophical ideas such as the threefold social organism. The aim is to create
a society where handicapped people, and others damaged by mainstream society, can fit in,
contribute usefully and feel themselves to be valued members with a respect for each
individual soul spirit.
New villages are created every year, especially in Eastern Europe and Russia, and links are
being forged with similar initiatives in countries such as India and Israel. Environmental
developments have created wide use of the Flow Form and Root Zone sewage treatment, and
experiments in ecological building techniques.
The presentation will finish with an introduction to the Bridge Building School, a new
educational initiative at Solborg Camphill Village in Norway. We see ourselves as a training
centre for ecological techniques for use in Camphill and Ecovillages world-wide, with an
emphasis on building using environmentally sound materials and developing projects in
Eastern Europe. We are working closely with the Scandinavian Straw and Mud Building
Association and the local Permaculture Group.
During the 1930s a group of intellectuals began meeting regularly in Vienna. They were
inspired by Anthroposophy, the teachings of Rudolf Steiner, and how these could be put into
practice in the fields of health and education. Because these people were to create one of the
largest communal living organisations in the modern world, it would be appropriate to record
the names of some of these founders: Karl and Tilla Konig, Alice and Peter Roth, Anke and
Thomas Weihs, Trude Amann, Barbara Lipsker, Marie Korach, Carlo Pietzner, and Alex
Baum.
As the political situation in Europe became more threatening, they decided they had to move.
France, Cyprus and Ireland were all considered in their turn, but the Anschluss in 1938, when
Nazi Germany invaded Austria, forced their hand. Intellectuals and Jews could no longer stay
in Vienna and for a while they were dispersed throughout Europe. Karl Konig went to
London, and stayed in contact with the rest of the group while he looked for a place where
they could gather once more. This remarkable group of people came together again near
Aberdeen, to continue with their work.
They moved to Kirkton House in the Dee Valley in the beginning of 1939 and began taking in
handicapped children. When the Second World War started some months later, the group was
registered as enemy aliens and all the men were interned on the Isle of Man. The women
carried on and a larger house was found and they moved there to Camphill House on June 1st
1940. A few months later the men returned, and the community then comprised of some 30
people of which just less than half were handicapped children. It was then understood to be
the first private institution for such children in the country. The founders saw themselves as
political refugees working with social refugees.
During the 1940s, the community grew by acquiring additional houses and properties in the
Dee Valley: Heathcote House, and Newton Dee Estate with 170 acres. By 1949 there were
180 children living in 5 houses, and a Camphill Seminar Course was begun for young people
who wanted to learn about Curative Education.
The 1950s saw the Camphill Movement grow and develop, reaching out to England, Ireland,
Germany, Holland, South Africa and the United States. For the first decade and a half the
work of the Camphill Houses was centered round educating and caring for handicapped
children. In the early 1950s, Konig began to think about more extended communities, based on
work in farms, gardens, and workshops, where handicapped adults would live together with
co workers in extended family situations. This was first put into practice at the Botton Estate
in 1954, a property given to the Camphill Movement by the Macmillan family, and the first
Camphill Village as we know it today was established. Botton Village created a model which
has been the basis for Camphill for nearly half a century. Today, Botton contains well over
300 residents in four clusters spread throughout the valley leading up to the North York
Moors.
The 1960s saw this change from schools for children to villages for adults happening
throughout the Camphill Schools, and a consolidation and reorganisation of the Camphill
Movement. It was divided into 6 regions, and Camphill House in Scotland was no longer the
headquarters, but of course remained a focal point. During this decade villages were
established in Norway and in Germany.
During the decade of the 1970s new villages were founded in Finland, France, Brazil and
Botswana. Eurythmy schools were established in England and the education of co-workers
was strengthened through the publication of books and periodicals, and an increasing
acceptance of Curative Education and Social Therapy as a serious profession. Social Therapy
can be seen as a way of creating situations where handicapped people and others (so called
normal!) can exercise their educational potential in society. Karl Konig died in 1966 and did
not live to see the establishment of the Austrian Camphill Village Liebenfehls in 1976, which
marked a return to the country which the original founders had left in 1938.
By the end of the 1980s the Camphill Movement consisted of over 70 communities in a
dozen or more countries. During this decade most of the founders had passed away, and the
movement had come of age, being run by 2nd or even 3rd generation co-workers. New
developments were taking place in care for the elderly and the setting up of the first urban
communities. Government regulations, outside consultancy and the question of professional
staff qualifications became increasingly relevant, and brought the movement closer to the
‘establishment’. During this time, care for the mentally handicapped by state institutions
became more enlightened, and the pioneering work done by the Camphill Communities began
to make itself felt, at least in those western European countries where the movement was well
developed. The ‘establishment’ also came closer to Camphill,
With the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the collapse of the Eastern European and Soviet
Communist regimes, a vigourous expansion eastwards took place. These were to a large extent
the result of contacts and initiatives from the Norwegian Camphill Movement. In Norway the
first village was established in 1966 at Vidarasen and by the beginning of the 90s the
community had grown to about 150 persons, with five other villages spread throughout the
south of the country, each one with between 30 and 60 inhabitants. They had established
broad cultural and social contacts, and a solid economic base. When the possibility of
establishing eastern villages arose there were many that were in a strong position to take up
the challenge. During the 90s villages were established at Pachla in Estonia, Woitowcka in
Poland, Svetlana in Russia and Rozkalni in Latvia. Another village is now being established in
Czechia and there is talk about possibilities in Siberia and Kazan. Altogether a total of nearly
100 people are living in these places.
During the 1970s and 80s, after a great deal of media attention in the 60s, large numbers of
alternative communities were formed in the countries in which Camphill was operating. The
relationship between these and the Camphill Communities would form an extremely
interesting field of study, but falls somewhat outside the scope of this presentation. I have a
strong feeling that many of the features that attracted people to alternative communities can
be found in the Camphill Network, and will come back to this when I come to sum up.
Throughout the world today there are about 100 Camphill Communities in over 20 countries.
They are organised into seven regions and a number of magazines and newsletters keep
information flowing between them. Regular meetings are held within the regions, and there is a
great deal of internal movement of co-workers and residents from one community to another.
There is a strong element of internationalism, and even in my own small community of about
forty people we counted thirteen different nations represented at a recent cultural gathering.
In addition to the communities that are formal members of Camphill, there is a good deal of
contact with similar communities, especially those that are also inspired by Anthroposophy
and working with handicapped people.
The group that established themselves at Camphill House in 1939 were attempting to put the
ideals of Anthroposophy into practice. This is a Spiritual Science based on the books and
lectures given by Rudolf Steiner from about 1900 until his death in 1925. Anthroposophy
proposes the physical world as a development and outgrowth of the spiritual world, and
presents a scientific method of analyzing this spiritual world. Anthroposophy was in turn
inspired by Theosophy, eastern mysticism and the traditions of Gnosticism, the
Rosicrucians, the Alchemists and the world view expressed by Goethe.
Steiner`s lectures and books had encouraged people in many professions to develop their
fields according to the Anthroposophical world view. The most well known today are
probably the Waldorf Steiner schools in the educational field, and Bio Dynamic agriculture.
These concern themselves with the soul development of the child, and the spiritual aspects of
soil and plant growth respectively. In addition, a great deal of work has been done in the fields
of architecture, art, music, dance, health, nutrition and such technical developments as waste
water treatment and food quality analysis.
The social aspects of Anthroposophy are most developed within the Camphill Villages,
where the threefold division of society is regarded as a basic tool for modeling the life and
structure of the community. This threefold division was presented by Steiner in lectures
during the last part of the First World War and the years that followed. He based his thoughts
on his study of the development of European society over the preceding centuries. In
England, he saw the industrial revolution as the modernisation of economic life, leading to
demands for fraternity, the development of trade unionism and labor party politics. In France
under the French Revolution he saw a change in the legal life leading to demands for equality,
and in Middle Europe (later unified to become Germany) changes in the spiritual life leading
to demands for liberty.
Steiner traced how these three great ideals, of Fraternity, Equality and Liberty, had been
corrupted by the rise of nationalism and the development of the centralised nation state.
Konig further traced how this led to the insanity of Nazism, fascism and state communism
after Steiner’s death. This threefold division was presented by Steiner as a way of rebuilding
Europe after the disaster of the First World War, but his ideas did not gain credence, and the
ideas were largely dormant until taken up by Konig in building up the Camphill communities
in the 1940s and 50s. Konig took as his starting point the Anthroposophical idea of the
spiritual basis of life on earth:
"A state, a people, a community, a village or a town is not merely the sum total of all the
people living there but... is a higher organism. It does not consist of flesh and blood, however,
but is created and formed by soul and spiritual powers."
Karl Konig, lecture at Fohrenbuhl, 29th of March 1964.
It is the analysis of this spiritual organism that concerns me here, and I would like to present
it from a number of angles:
Spiritual
Legal
Economic
Creed
Education
Art
Research
Capital
Judiciary
Police
Laws
Goods
Production
Distribution
Trading
The slogans of the French Revolution
Liberty
Equality
Fraternity
The three legged stool (Findhorn Conference 1995)
Individual
Social
Ecological
Zinzendorf
Owen
Leaf
Flower
The three pillars of Camphill
Comenius
As a mirror of the plant world
Root
The development of the human being (first three years)
Thinking
Feeling process
Speaking
Metabolic limb system
Walking
Will process
Rosicrucians, Alchemists, Paracelsus & processes of nature
Salt process
Mercury process
Sulphur process
These three spheres are always with us, they are not determinants of how we should or might
behave, but an attempt to make sense of our every day lives and how we come together as
human beings. One of the insights of this ‘Social Anthroposophy’ is that we are at heart
social creatures, indeed, it would be impossible to think of ourselves as cut off from the rest
of humanity. The few examples we have had of individuals reared in the wild by animals and
having had no contact with other human beings show us that though they might physically be
human, they have very few of the features which we use to differentiate between animals and
human beings.
We worship and philosophise, educate, create music and art in the spiritual sphere. Here we
need our freedom to develop ourselves.
We decide amongst ourselves, who is right and who is wrong in the sphere of laws and rights,
and need to regard ourselves as equals, with equal rights.
We work, produce, buy and sell in the economic sphere, and need the fellowship (brotherhood
and sisterhood) of looking after each other, not necessarily as equals, for clearly, some have
more capacity and some have greater needs.
We have seen how the three slogans of the French Revolution fit into this threefold aspect,
each one being the appropriate condition for a specific sphere. At the conference which
launched the Global Ecovillage Network (GEN) at Findhorn in 1995, it was suggested that a
healthy Ecovillage rested upon three legs, and that it was the balance between the three which
gave the community its stability and sustainability. These three ‘legs’, the individual, the
social and the ecological also represent a path of development, from the individual outwards,
to our fellow individuals, and ultimately to the world surrounding us. As can be seen from the
table above, they also fit in with the threefold aspect.
Konig was very inspired by three figures from history, and has often referred to them as the
‘Three Pillars of Camphill’. Johann Comenius (1592 - 1670) was convinced that peace and
understanding between people would be the result of a greater wisdom that individuals could
strive for, and that this be based on a regard for the spiritual nature of others. Ludwig
Zinzendorf (1700 - 1760) was instrumental in forming the Moravian Brotherhood, and was
convinced that community was vital in ones search for Christianity and a deeper spiritual life.
This connection with the Moravian Brotherhood gives Camphill a link with today's Bruderhof
and Hutterites. Robert Owen (1771 - 1858) is perhaps better known to those who have
studied the growth of labour ideologies and social reform over the last two hundred years. He
founded a series of communities in which members received no wages, and which have had a
great deal of importance in inspiring other social innovations. These three personalities
illustrate in a human way the three spheres of society, and often form the objects of study in
order to deepen our understanding.
Finding patterns in the natural world, and using these to illustrate, explain and design our own
needs is a process well known to those of us who use Permaculture as a design technique.
Applying the same exercise to the structure and development of the human being can lead to
greater insights into the social sphere. Karl Konig developed this in some depths in his
lectures in 1964, and this has formed the basis for a great deal of study work within the
Camphill world. It is quite usual for the villages to have extended study sessions, and work
through texts in order to arrive at a greater understanding. This has the effect of raising
consciousness on social issues, and ensuring that as the social dynamics create a continuous
series of changes, these take place within a certain framework. For those who want to
immerse themselves deeper into these speculations, Konig gives a good starting point with the
alchemical processes of salt, mercury and sulphur. There is no doubt that further discussions
and meditations will inspire yet deeper insights.
In the sphere of economics it is interesting to see how Anthroposophy and Marxism come
close to each other, bearing in mind Marx’s vision of a future society where each would
produce according to his or her capability, and be rewarded according to his or her needs. This
is a principle which has been taken up by the Kibbutz Movement, and has for most of its
history and for most of its communities been one of the central pillars of its ideology.
Anthroposophy has always distanced itself from the socialist tradition, emphasizing a more
spiritual world view, and eschewing dialectical materialism. However, in the economic sphere
there is no doubt that we can see a strong convergence between these two streams as ideology
and philosophy are put into practice. To quote:
"In a community of people working together, the well being of the community is greater the
less the individual worker claims for himself the proceeds of the work he has done and the
more he makes these over to his fellow workers. Similarly he allows his own needs to be met
out of the work done by others." Rudolf Steiner. The Fundamental Social Law.
How do these ideals work out in practice, in the everyday life of a Camphill Village? Within
the Camphill Communities most of us live in large extended families, co-workers (both long
term people with their families, and young temporary volunteers) and villagers (mentally
handicapped or otherwise in need of help), sharing our lives, our meals, our living rooms and
bathrooms. There may be as many as fifteen people or more gathered round the dining table
three times a day. Each house has its own budget, and is run more or less autonomously by a
couple of responsible co-workers, the house father and house mother. In the morning and the
afternoon everyone goes to work, in a variety of workplaces. In my community at Solborg
Camphill Village in Norway we have a bio-dynamic farm, extensive vegetable gardens, a
bakery, a weavery, a large forest for timber and firewood, herb growing and drying, and have
just begun a cheese making workshop. Other villages have workshops which produce pottery,
candles, dolls or wooden toys. I have eaten meals where the table came from the carpentry
shop, the table cloth from the weavery, the plates and cups from the pottery, the candles
(which are lit at every meal) from the candle shop, and virtually all the food is produced by
the village: bread, milk products, jams, vegetables, herb teas, honey, meat and meat products.
This self sufficiency is not an end in itself, but rather a way of saving money, and ensuring
that each person is employed doing something that is useful to the village, seen and felt to be
doing so. In many cases in mainstream society, mentally handicapped people are
peripheralised and ‘looked after’ and so denied an active and useful role. In the world of
Camphill, every person has something to contribute, and feels self-worth even when fetching
the milk or laying the table.
In addition to the work branches, there are the houses to be run, washing, cooking and
cleaning. This is considered work, just as important as production and the occupation of
‘housewife’ or ‘house mother’ is as vital to the well being of the community as any other
profession. Everyone has a workplace, and each contributes something useful to the running
of the village, according to his or her capability. Within this sphere no money changes hands,
and work is seen to be something that is freely given within the fellowship, recognising that
some people have higher capabilities than others.
The farms and gardens in Camphill Villages are always bio dynamic, producing food of the
highest quality while nurturing both soil and wildlife. Generally the organic waste from the
kitchens is composted, usually by a village compost set up. Horse transport is quite common,
being very efficient and low cost at a village scale. Villages in England have pioneered waste
water treatment using ponds, reed beds and ‘Flow Form’ water cascades. These are now
standard in the Norwegian villages, and throughout Camphill worldwide. Buildings, both
communal halls and chapels, and the usually large residential houses, are largely constructed
out of natural materials, and avoid the use of poisons and plastics as much as possible.
However, there is still much to be done in the raising of consciousness, and in building,
transport, recycling and energy use.
It is for this reason that the Bridge Building School was started at Solborg Camphill in
Norway. The idea of the bridge was fundamental. On the deepest level, we want to create a
bridge between the heart and the hand, between the world of spirit, where ideas arise and
creativity is stimulated, and the world of materials, where our hands fashion our surroundings
with a variety of tools and materials. We also strive to create a bridge between east and west,
between young Norwegian people and their counterparts in eastern Europe, Latvia and
Russia. Recognising that Camphill Villages are ecovillages, we want to create a link between
the rising ecological consciousness and life as lived in Camphill by teaching Permaculture and
creating strong links with the Norwegian Ecovillage Association, ‘Kilden’. Our main
educational program is a five month course in ecological building, focusing on straw bale
construction. This program was first offered in the year 2000, and twelve students spent two
months in Rozkalni Village in Latvia, building a straw bale house, and incorporating many
other ecological features such as a ‘kakel’ heat retaining wood stove, passive solar heating,
mud and log walls and earthen floors. The program is being offered again this year, and the
focus will now be on a small straw bale family house needed at the Waldorf School connected
to Svetlana Village in Russia. In 2002 the course will be expanded to a full ten months, and in
cooperation with the Norwegian Clay and Straw Building Association there will be a great
deal of emphasis upon practical ecological building training.
In addition to this, short courses for co-workers and villagers are breaking new ground,
providing a serious educational element to village life. During the first months of this year
about a hundred people have attended courses at the Bridge Building School, in Introduction
Courses for young coworkers, Story Telling for Villagers, Permaculture, and professional
training for Curative Education and Social Therapy. This part of the School will be developed
and expanded in the future, to include biodynamic farming, nutrition and other subjects. As
the Camphill Movement matures into the new century, internal changes are taking place,
partly as a response to changes in the outside society, and partly as a result of internal
dynamics. The Bridge Building School sees itself as a bridge between the past and the future
also, and offers a place where change can be looked at and discussed by co-workers and other
interested parties. Some of these changes will be concerned with the world of ideas, and these
will in turn be translated into physical changes in house building or workshop construction.
I have called this presentation Camphill Ecovillages with a good reason. Within the Global
Ecovillage Network, Camphill Villages have taken a very low profile, and also here, within the
ICSA, this is the first time that I know of that there has been a presentation of the Camphill
Network. This network is an attempt to build an alternative to mainstream society, based
upon deep thinking and a serious analysis of society’s faults and how they might be repaired.
I would suggest that Camphill Villages are communes or intentional communities in the classic
sense, attempts to deliberately create an alternative to mainstream society, and influence that
society positively by these attempts. I would also suggest that these communities are true
Ecovillages, and would score higher on the GEN profile, both socially and ecologically, than
many Ecovillages within the GEN network. Many of the characteristics that attract people to
alternative communities and to Ecovillages feature in the Camphill communities. There is a
great deal of self sufficiency, we eat home grown, organic food, to a great extent we recycle,
compost and treat our own waste, and we attempt to integrate a spiritual world view into our
everyday lives. We strive to create fellowship in our economic life, and a flexible equality into
our social sphere. In short, we offer an alternative way of life. As we respond to changes in
our surrounding society, we question the way we do things, are willing to experiment with
new ideas, and are in need of new people. I would like to close this presentation by opening a
discussion on how there can be more integration between established Ecovillages, alternative
communities and the Camphill network.
Sources
Man as a Social Being. Karl Konig. Camphill Press. 1990
Living Buildings. Joan de Ris Allen. Camphill Architects. 1990
A Candle on the Hill. Carlo Pietzner (ed.). Floris Books. 1990
Solborg Village Guide. Adrian Bowden. Unpublished, available from Solborg Village.
Rudolf Steiner: his Life and Work. Gilbert Childs. Floris Books. 1995
Jan Martin Bang grew up in England where he was active in the Cooperative and Trade Union
Movements in the 70’s. He moved to Israel in 1984 and was a kibbutz member for 16 years.
Since 1993 he worked on environmental projects within the Kibbutz Movement. This took
him on extensive travels within the region, teaching Permaculture courses and visiting
ecovillages in Egypt, Turkey, Cyprus and the Palestinian areas. He has now moved to
Solborg Camphill Village with his family, and is part of the teaching team at the Bridge
Building School.
NOYANA
Dorothee Bornath
What is Noyana?
At the present moment, Noyana is not a physical community that you can visit, but a
growing group of friends, living all over Germany. In and around Cologne (western Germany)
you'll find about half of the 40 Noyanas. Noyana consist of a mixed group of strong, young
people from many walks of life. It is not a fixed or static group. Noyana is constantly
developing through the contribution of the members and new people joining.
Noyana is about love of life, about having many deep relationships and wonderful
friendships.
We are all interested in community and free Love. We are open for the manifold possibilities
in love and relationship. There are many longterm relationships and close friendships within
Noyana. What keeps us together is a kind of spirit which is formulated as "the Noyana
culture idea" and strongly felt when we come together. Part of this idea or vision is a village.
We use the forum technique, from the ZEGG. Some members come from an Osho Bhagwan
sannyas background who have brought us certain meditation techniques. Others contributed a
method called "Open Space" It is a highly effective and efficient meeting method. Further,
some are inspired by European forms of shamanism and witchcraftery. Massage and tantra.
We cooperate with other communities such as ZEGG, the tribe "Stamm Fassen" and Tamera
in Portugal.
Right now, Noyana consists of forty adults, between 25 and 38 years old, and six very young
children and two of school age. There is no charismatic leader, no one religious belief or a
certain political goal.
Our values are transparency and communication, growth, spirituality, healing, erotic and
sensuality, and joy in life.
We called ourselves "Noyana" because we often sang the song "Noyana nitini pezulu" which
means "We are all together on the way to paradise". We understood that was a good theme
for us.
So far as I know, the evolution of Noyana is unique.
The beginning was a youth group at the ZEGG in 1994. After some dispute with ZEGG we
became independent.
The next step in our development was some kind of a "meeting culture" Although we are
spread all over Germany we meet four to five times a year since 1996 to spend some days
together. The meetings are organized by alternating members and take place somewhere in
Germany and they where all very intense and very different.
Since 1996 we have an internal newsletter and since 1999 we use a mailing list to communicate
in between the meetings.
Over the years some new people have joined, and some others left. We found out, that people
who fit will stay and the others will go.
We have created Structures to support our evolution and the spirit of Noyana. The first and
most important rule is that, structures can be changed every time when there is enough
energy. And individual decisions are possible at every time, even if they are "against the
rules".
Concerning organizational decisions it is always the competence of the one who is active.
Since 1998 some kind of crystallization took place near Cologne. Right now, the Noyana
community consists of two houses, near Cologne, where 17 adults and seven children live
together. Some People who life in Cologne city and the others live elsewhere in Germany, like
before.
Than there was a baby-boom. The pregnancies were mostly not planed, but very welcome. In
the year 2000 six children were born, boys only.
Right now, the "Noyana Community Fläming" is coming into life. There are 19 adults with 5
very young children who are looking for a place where they can live together here in the region
not far from the ZEGG-Community. This is because we believe, that it may grow like a
Silicon Valley for Communities.
How does that work?
I asked myself again what makes this evolution possible?
How does it work?
Why does Noyana still exist?
And how come that Noyana is still such a powerful and strong thing?
I know that community and togetherness are deep, deep longings of everyone. We are in
Community with every on and every thing on this planet. Community is anyhow.
So the interesting question is, how can we bring out the consciousness of our togetherness.
What can we do to support and maintain this liberation. Or what do we have to let go for
this?
I think that there are some basics. A kind of "underlying structure" which makes the process
possible. I found the following factors which supported the evolution and the growth of
Noyana.
We have done some things the right way, although we are not very conscious about that.
I believe that these aspects are important and interesting for everyone who
is in a community building process.
1. -> That there is sympathy, friendship and love.
2. -> That there are a lot of strong individuals.
3. -> That there is the willingness for personal development and change.
4. -> That people had to be self-responsible.
5. -> That there is a complementary diversity of the members.
6. -> That we take a long time fore the organic growth.
7. -> Time, which gives space to the development of trust and the
stabilization of the relationships and friendships and to becoming familiar.
8. -> That we have had a lot of intense experience and experiments together.
9. -> That there is openness for change.
10.-> And very basic, that there is this mystery, this kind of clue which is in truth a spiritual
background.
When we had our first open space conference in 1999 I realised, that the principles of this
Method are the way Noyana worked from the beginning.
The four principles are:
* Whoever comes it will be the right people.
* Whatever happens is the only thing that could have happened.
* Whenever it starts is the right time.
* When it's over it's over.
And than there is the law of the two feet:
* It is the law of personal choice. It enables people to participate in the ways which are the
most meaningful for them.
After all, I realize, that all these ingredients support as well the development from the
separated, single, individuals to human beings who are aware and free to share life and to live
together in their own and right way. And I am sure that Communities in all their rich and
manifold ways is the most intelligent way of living.
Our homepage is: www.noyana.de and it has pictures.
There is also a brochure from the "Noyana Community Fläming" available.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------Dorothee Bornath
Moderation + Coaching
Dortelweiler Strasse 13
61118 Gronau
Tel.+Fax: 06101/537879
Mobil: 0177/5417216
www.bornath.de
Tamera – A Biotope for the Healing of both Humans and Nature
Janni Hentrich
Healing Biotopes act as "Greenhouses for Trust" and follow the original image of a universal
solidarity amongst all beings.
The shape of the site is reminiscent of an eagle landing; this has been chosen as the symbol for
Healing Biotope 1 Tamera. The Tamera site comprises 134 hectares of land in Alentejo,
southern Portugal. It has two springs that provide drinking water, several ponds, two fruit
groves and woodlands with cork oaks and eucalyptus. Alentejo is one of the most rural and
sparsely populated areas of Europe. The people here have already lived through a lot: bitter
poverty and serfdom well into the 20th century; revolution and socialism; the exodus of the
youth to the towns; and now the excesses of the European Union’s huge agricultural and
environmental projects. In spite of all this, the friendly, open nature of the Portuguese people
can be felt throughout the region. Many people are open-minded and interested in the
development of the Healing Biotope. There is a beautiful neighbourly contact within the direct
environs and there are good relations with the regional authorities responsible for building and
environment.
The land was once well known throughout the area for its beauty and wealth of blossoming
fruit trees. However, at the time of the purchase this was not really visible anymore: the
woods had been felled, the meadows overgrazed, a whole hill leveled, and a large part of the
site was overgrown with brushwood. Gaia-Earth’s wounds were clear to see. It needed and
still needs the eye of an artist and the hand of an ecologist to bring the land’s magic to light
again: at the Oracle Spring, the Sanctuary Pond, the Mountain of Visions and in many other
places.
The geomantic lines and power points were decoded during the visits and work of specialist
geomancers. The landscape healer Marko Pogacnic confirmed the supposition that key
leylines and energy lines ran through the site. He also confirmed the geomantic connection to
the stone circle at Evora. One of Tamera’s power points, the Great Place of Ying, the place
for the female energy, is a geomantic point for the whole of Portugal. In every respect the
Tamera site revealed itself to be a good place to start working on the intentions of the Healing
Biotope.
A Lifestyle for the Future
The establishment of functioning communities is probably the most exciting and rewarding
research project that can be undertaken in this day and age. Modern humans have unlearnt
how to live together; now they need to learn it once again. The tasks and questions that arise
in today’s world are too complex to be completely seen or understood, let alone answered, by
isolated people. It is not just the challenges we are facing which need communication and
community, but the health of our souls as well, this demands human interconnectedness and
solidarity.
How does this fit with the need for individuality and intimacy? "Individuality is a community
undertaking," say the chaos theoreticians. A person doesn’t need separation or demarcation.
Quite the opposite is true: he or she needs communication, contact and trust in order to
develop and reveal his or her authentic individuality.
Just as a woodland is more than the sum of its trees, a community is more than simply the
sum of its collected talents and skills. Community knowledge is the knowledge of how to
create this ‘more than’. Community arises to the extent that a group of people are capable of
creating a common relationship to something objective: to a common aim, to an objective task,
to a spiritual basis or to the sacred. In this sense, community means replacing the isolated
ways of being with a way of being that is participatory, compassionate and universal. Acting
in this way, the community members will learn how to communicate about delicate subjects,
create a home and orientation for children, see and treasure a larger and more beautiful image of
love and see through power structures. They will then be able to dismantle these structures
by sharing responsibilities among a larger number of people. The degree of stability of a
community depends upon how much truth it is prepared to integrate.
In Tamera, this community knowledge is a central sphere of research which has already,
during the social experiment’s years, yielded valuable insights about living together and
communitarian forms of communication. The new knowledge is full of vitality and can be
widely applied.
Co-operating with all Living Beings
By working together with animals, plants and the soil, healing work can be performed upon
the organism Earth and its organs. Gaia, the Earth, must once again be covered with a
protective layer of plants, humus and soil-organisms in order that it can be healthy. Humans
working alone cannot achieve this: it needs the co-operation of all living beings.
Under the leadership of Jürgen Paulick, a ‘Peace Garden’ and a ‘Permaculture Woodland
Garden’ are being established in Tamera. Both of these are parts of an emergent overall
concept for agriculture that completely avoids exploiting animals or plants. Tamera’s
ecological re-cultivation also includes cautiously making contact with free-living animals,
reforestation, geomantic healing with artificial-technological information carriers, the
renaturalisation of the existing creeks and springs, and tending the special geomantic power
points. The peace gardeners’ training includes all of these subjects.
The Peace Garden: "Friends, not Foes"
The opinion that small animals are enemies who should be destroyed even dominates the
practices of organic agriculture, with its non-toxic but nonetheless diverse combat methods.
However, this destruction and control is no longer necessary: there are clear, positive results
from the experiences of co-operating and communicating with so-called pests. These
experiences will hopefully be deepened and utilized in the Peace Garden; the first trial area
covers some 1000 m2.
The Peace Garden’s gardeners face the challenge of abandoning fear and thoughts of
insufficient yields and replacing these with a loving relationship to their fellow beings in the
garden. The work that has already begun includes research into communications with plants
and animals as well as research into the resonance of energetic processes and vibrations, e.g.
music and thoughts. The Peace Garden will reflect the overall information of the Healing
Biotope in a concentrated form: contact, co-operation and trust. It is anticipated that the
garden will yield food especially rich in both physiological and ethereal nutrition.
The Agroforestry Test-Site
The Tamera agroforestry programme combines two interests: the reforestation that is such an
ecologically high priority for the whole of southern Europe and a high-diversity foodstuff
production. Agroforestry as understood within the framework of Permaculture is one of the
most sustainable and natural methods of cultivation that there is. It doesn’t suppress nature’s
efforts to create woodland – to the contrary, it supports this. It utilizes nature’s ability to
gradually transform an impoverished soil back into fertile ground through a succession of
different plant communities. It makes the most of the diversity and the synergetic effect of
the woodland and the many edge-zones, which arise naturally and are especially fertile. Even
in difficult places it can achieve high yields of tree and bush fruits, herbs, woodland cereals
and other plants. Agroforestry can provide a solution to the burning ecological questions of
water shortages, firewood deficiencies, deforestation, desertification and the loss of
biodiversity. In Tamera, the agroforestry is starting out on small test sites in order to learn
how to adapt the methods to the local soil and climate conditions; then it will spread out onto
the rest of the site.
Food at Tamera: Diet is a Political Issue
What we eat has a deciding influence on our bodily, mental and spiritual constitution.
Foodstuff whose production involves the death and suffering of animals or the exploitation of
humans or the environment is not foodstuff that is suitable for the information ‘non-violence’.
The participants of Healing Biotope 1 Tamera have therefore agreed upon a vegetarian, to a
large extent vegan, nutrition. In addition, cosmetics and hygiene products whose production
involves animal testing are no longer bought or used. This is an underlying principle of
Tamera: to cut out all acts of complicity.
From here it is a natural step to the necessity of regional self-sufficiency. Foodstuffs – and
other needed resources – should be produced within the Healing Biotope itself or in cooperation with the farmers in the neighbourhood.
Tamera
Monte do Cerro
P-7630 Colos
00351-283-635306, fax: 635374, [email protected], www.tamera.org
Hellerau, Monte Verita and the Making of Modern Dance
Dr Sydney Norton PhD
By the turn of the twentieth century, numerous cooperative communities flourished in rural
areas of Europe and the United States with the goal of incorporating nature into everyday life
and thereby re-instilling a long shunned connection between the human being and his/her
natural surroundings. Two such communities are the subject of today’s presentation:
Hellerau (1909-1920), a garden city and rhythmic gymnastics school located just outside of
Dresden, and Monte Verita (1900-1920), an international artists’ colony near Ascona,
Switzerland, that also served as a sanctuary for conscientious objectors during World War I.
Both of these cooperative institutions, while differing significantly in their social and political
orientations, became centers of creativity for a younger generation of painters, writers and
dancers.
This presentation introduces you to Hellerau and Monte Verita within a framework of
modern dance. Through the lens of the German modern dance movement you will become
acquainted with the ideological tropes that informed the missions of these establishments and
that simultaneously gave rise to some of the artistic and intellectual developments of the early
twentieth century. I demonstrate that the common ideals of these utopian societies particularly their focus on movement or dance as a means of accessing creative potential for all
other endeavors in life—played a significant role in the making of Ausdruckstanz or Dance of
Expression, an avant-garde dance form that flourished in Western and central Europe during
the twenties and thirties. My discussion is limited to works by and influences on Mary
Wigman and Rudolf von Laban, two pioneers of the Ausdruckstanz movement, whose
choreographic ideals developed out of the creative ferment of these alternative communities.
Both Hellerau and Monte Verita were communal centers that were founded on the principles
ofLebensphilosophie, a philosophy of life that was at odds with both the theoretical values of
the Enlightenment and the capitalistic motivations of industrial modernity. Proponents of
Lebensphilosophie were convinced that industrial progress and the relentless favoring of
scientific endeavor over sense perception were the ultimate causes of the decline of the quality
of life in Europe. They believed that if the individual’s disconnection from his/her physical
body were not halted, a complete degeneration of Western civilization could
occur (Higgins 66-67). Seeking an antidote to this grim future, these critics of modernity
rejected the dimensions of their culture that were guided by principles of brutal repression of
the senses. Life itself became their fundamental aspiration. Philosophy was significant only
in its relation to life. The sensuous body, which Enlightenment philosophers had stripped of
its dignity in favor of the abstracting mind, was now to be celebrated as the ultimate
expression of truth.
Hellerau was a cooperative institution created in 1909 under the initiative of an organization
of artisans residing in Dresden, Germany. Modeled after the English "garden city," it was
designed as a progressive establishment for craftspeople. The goal was to incorporate the
beauty of art, nature, and socialist ideals into the everyday life of the modern worker. The
initial edifices at Hellerau included a cluster of spacious workshops that were surrounded by
the workers’ residences. The Hellerau design allowed every worker his or her own house and
garden. The artisans were the foundation of Hellerau’s economic self-sufficiency: they
created aesthetically pleasing and functional household objects, and through simple machine
reproduction, made them affordable for any middle class citizen.
The same year that Hellerau became a functional and independent community for workers, its
directors Drs. Wolf and Harald Dohrn invited the Viennese musician and harmony teacher
Emile Jaques-Dalcroze to direct the arts dimension of the establishment. After hearing him
speak on the health- and spiritual benefits of rhythmic gymnastics and witnessing a student
demonstration at a music conservatory in Berlin, the two life-reformists became convinced
that Dalcrozean methods of movement would enrich the lives of the Hellerau inhabitants.
Dalcroze, impressed by the philosophical goals and communal nature of the Hellerau
community, resigned from his post at the Geneva conservatory and moved to Dresden with
forty nine of his best students (Müller and Stöckemann 11).
The original goal of Dalcroze’s rhythmic gymnastics was to improve the rhythmic
sensibilities of his music students though movement, and his methodology was based on the
translation of sounds into physical gestures (Sorell 324). Inspired by a pre-Hellenic notion of
educating the human being by acknowledging the body, mind and spirit as equal and connected
parts of a unified whole, and by attempting to develop all three of these realms equally in his
students, Dalcroze introduced methods of movement which laid a groundwork for a coming
generation of choreographers who were interested in removing dance from its assumed
connection with a romantic narrative or erotic spectacle.
In order to develop the rhythmic sensibilities of his students, he took the metronomic values
of notes and created a specific movement for each value. The desired result was the
transference of rhythmic associations into the students’ unconscious, a process that Dalcroze
believed would add interpretive depth to their musical performance. The connection between
music and movement became a form of music visualization similar to that of Isadora Duncan,
wherein the music itself inspired interpretive dances. Dalcroze’s music-based rhythmic
exercises resulted in interpretive works of unusually high artistic caliber, in which dancers’
movements became extensions of specific instruments or groups of instruments, giving way to
an orchestra of visual imagery. Dalcroze’s center for rhythmic gymnastics became a mecca for
dancers of international renown (Pavlova, Nijinsky, Duncan, Laban), all of whom were
seeking to broaden their movement vocabularies. It also served as a center of inspiration for
influential painters and innovators of the theater, most notably the Expressionist painter Emil
Nolde, stage designer Adolphe Appia, and Max Reinhardt, the great innovator of the classical
theater.
Not surprisingly, the creative projects that materialized at Hellerau were closely connected
with the general physical structure of the garden city. Architect Heinrich Tessenow, who had
previously worked to create cheerful and liveable dwellings for the working-class, was called
upon to design the Hellerau school and festival halls. Favoring neoclassical architecture,
Tessenow designed symmetrical buildings with high and bright spaces that absorbed natural
sun light (Müller 25). Tessenow also designed the theatrical arena, an immense, bright hall
that would house the grand festival student performances. These monumental, wide-
windowed chambers overlooked natural vistas, encouraging a seamless interchangeability
between and architecture, leisure and work. The movement classes were, when possible,
conducted in the fresh air and the participants enjoyed the luxury of dancing in uncustomarily
comfortable shorts and sleeveless tops. Clothing reform, the call for comfortable and healthful
clothing for women, was an integral component of the Hellerau way of life. While it was still
customary for Dresden women to wear the Victorian corset, Hellerau women would take their
walks in "reform clothes," long loose fitting comfortable dresses. At the turn of the century
women’s reform clothes took on political connotations that were linked with feminism and
liberation. They also became one of the hallmarks of the new dance movement, encouraging
Western women to embrace a range of corporeal freedoms never before imagined.
It was 1910, the first year of enrolment at Dalcroze’s school in Hellerau, that Mary Wigman,
the 24 year-old daughter of a middle class Hannoverian merchant, signed up for rhythmic
gymnastics courses. She shared one of the small one-family artisan homes with three other
young women. While immersed in movement and improvisation, ear training and music
theory classes during the day, Wigman spent evenings and weekends becoming acquainted
with some of the most influential personalities and talents of the early 20th century. Dr.
Hans Prinzhorn, a neurologist and psychiatrist, who later published a book called "Sketches
of the Mentally Ill," described to her in colorful terms the conditions his insane patients. The
descriptors he used--"expression," "impulse," and "spontaneity"-- were dynamic and positive
terms that also surfaced in the vocabularies of early Expressionist painters Nolde and
Kokoshka. Whether artist or doctor, the artificiality of turgid academic discourses had fallen
away and the internal essence of the individual or object was what remained important.
Most significant for Wigman’s artistic development was her close relationship with Emil
Nolde, a young Expressionist painter who was inspired by the stark emotional immediacy of
the "primitive" that would a few years later characterize Wigman’s performance art. The
paintings that he completed during the Hellerau years (1910-1913) reflect most dramatically
the energy of the primitive ecstatic, the desire to return to the roots of pre-civilization. It
doesn’t matter whether Nolde’s subject matter was a radiant landscape, a pagan rite, or a still
life, the viewer becomes aware of the interconnectedness between human and nature, one that
even within the stillness of the canvas reflects movement and primeval energy.
Capturing the dynamism and spontaneity of movement was, indeed, why Nolde sojourned for
longer periods of time at Hellerau. The dynamic movements of the young dancers,
particularly the improvisational performances of Wigman in the open air, inspired Nolde to
create a series of dance paintings that fused the passion and color of aboriginal dances with the
movement and gestures of this new generation of Europeans. An adherent of
Lebensphilosophie , Nolde was convinced of the certainty of a mythical origin, one which he
could best represent in the natural free-spiritedness of the native female dancer, an energy that
would also enrich the dancing of Westerners. In notes for his introduction to his book Artistic
Expressions of Primitive Peoples (Kunstäusserungen der Naturvölker), Nolde articulates the
reason for the intense fascination that modern Europeans possessed for non-European
cultures: "The absolute originality, the intense, often grotesque expression of force and life in
the very simplest form--that may well be what gives us intense pleasure in these aboriginal
works" (Dube 84). It was the fundamental life force of pre-civilization, the most elemental
expression of human emotion, that Nolde attempted to capture in his painting and what Mary
Wigman would a few years later communicate to her audiences throughAusdruckstanz.
As much as Wigman benefited from her experiences at Hellerau, she emphasized in her
memoirs that she was forced to reject the Dalcrozean methods, in order to allow herself the
creative autonomy she needed to choreograph. Her training at Hellerau served her well as a
vehicle for performing movement studies, yet Dalcroze’s music-based approach to movement
was a stifling experience, one which increasingly hindered her own creativity. "It wasn’t
necessary for me to learn rhythm with Dalcroze," she wrote in her diary, "because I had an
unusually strong personal sense of rhythm which naturally flowed into musicality.
Cultivating rhythm was completely unnecessary in my case." Another entry further
underscores her resistance to Dalcroze’s methods: "Everything that had to do with musicality
and music-rhythmic training from Dalcroze didn’t interest me at all. What fascinated me was
the fact that we were told: ‘now express what you’d like to say with your body"(ctd. from
Müller 30).
Wigman’s distaste for a dance-form that was subjugated to music, was in fact, a symptom of
an ideological thrust that informed members of the younger generation of artists in Germany.
The expression of emotional immediacy, which in Germany was first articulated in paintings
by the early Expressionists had begun to seep into the media of theater and film. The dancer
of Expression orAusdruckstänzer(in) became enchanted by the notion of expressing herself or
himself in "absolute" and authentic terms. One’s inner rhythm was now considered to be far
more significant for the dancer than the exterior accompaniments to the dance such as music,
formal narrative, or costume.
In 1913 Wigman completed her movement studies at Hellerau and relocated to Monte Verita
in Ascona, having heard that Rudolf von Laban, the artistic director of the community sought
to liberate dance from its virtual enslavement to movement. Two life reformists, Ida Hofman
and Henri Oedenkoven, had established this independent rural community as a sanctuary for
pacifist artists and writers who could hone their skills in a creative environment, apart from
the destructive influences of capitalism and hectic city life. Monte Verita did not aspire to
reform the lives of middle class workers as did Hellerau, nor did it contain the monumental
structures of order and harmony that characterized the Hellerau world-view. But it attracted a
colorful mix of European personalities who enriched their personal lives through a daily
regimen that included art classes, vegetarianism, homeopathic cures, communion with nature,
and dance. Inhabitants of the Mountain of Truth included psychoanalysts, doctors,
alternative doctors interested in holistic methods of healing. Artists who at one time or
another resided there included Michael Bakunin, Erich Mühsam, Paul Klee, Rainer Maria
Rilke, Else Lasker Schüler, James Joyce, Hugo Ball, Jacques Dalcroze, and Isadora Duncan.
All of the inhabitants took pride in the colony’s independent economy based on communal
farming and collective labor.
Like Hellerau, the point about which all of the activities were oriented at Monte Verita, was
movement. While Ida Hofman and Oedenkoven carried out the day to day management of the
establishment, Rudolf von Laban directed the school of arts. The term he used to describe his
school of art wasTanz-Ton-Wort , abbreviations for the classes he offered in the art of dance,
music, and acting. Reflecting the anthroposophic nature of the colony, the school was
designed to educate the artist equally in all areas, as opposed to allowing him or her specialize
in the chosen discipline at the expense of all others. While Laban taught the core classes, his
wife Maja Leder and the two founders of the colony offered courses in the practical skill
necessary for functioning in everyday life: cooking, weaving, gardening, shoemaking and
architecture. (Perrottet 109)
Although Laban championed artistic eclecticism at Monte Verita, he was still convinced of the
importance of "movement for the sake of pure movement" and all of his classes foregrounded
inspirational dance as the nexus of all forms of creativity. This notion, a radical one in that
dance was judged as an autonomous art-form as opposed to one that was subjugated to music,
attracted numerous aspiring dancers to Ascona, several of whom would use Laban’s methods
as a springboard for developing their own pedagogical principles. Wigman, who immediately
excelled in Laban’s courses, became his assistant, taught many of his classes, and performed
leading roles in his festival dances. She would later break with Laban and develop her own
school and distinctive choreographic style.
Laban’s improvisational work in Ascona gave way to a series of early dance dramas, but the
work that best illustrates the festival dimension that would later characterize Laban’s
movement choirs was his twenty-four hour dance extravaganza Song to the Sun.
Choreographed and performed in 1917, the work was a three part Reigen or round dance set
to the poetry of Otto Borngraeber. Possessing the characteristics of a cultic celebration, the
work was divided into three parts: "Setting Sun," "Demons of the Night" and "Sun’s Victory,"
all of which were performed in the open air and in various locations of Monte Verita, to which
all of the spectators/participants would arrive by foot. Embellished by pantomime, torch
light parades, and choric dances, Laban’s Song to the Sun represented an ideal society by
unifying participant and allowing the participants to experience collectively the wonders of
nature (Müller and Stöckemann 17). The distance between spectator and performer preserved
in classical theater was eradicated, as the spectators actively took part in the torch
ceremonies, and travelled with the dancers from one location to the next. The cultic dance
festival provided a community that temporarily eradicated class distinctions, a social
phenomenon that Laban attributed to the misguided principles in modern Western society.
Laban continued using the festival format throughout the thirties in his movement choirs,
many of which provided an arena of artistic and political expression for the working class.
Monumental versions of Laban’s festival format were employed for propaganda purposes
during the Third Reich, a circumstance that cannot be addressed in this presentation due to
time constraints.
Hellerau and Monte Verita are closely related in their attempts to humanize the inhumane
dimensions of industrial modernity and to make just the discrepancies of the bourgeois social
order. While substantial differences in world-view and social orientation are discernible-Hellerau continued to embrace the bourgeois moral codes and traditions, while the Mountain
of Truth did not-- both groups were dedicated to transforming everyday life into a more
healthful and joyous process in which body, intellect and nature could be cultivated in
harmony. The outbreak of World War I prevented both of these communal centers from
physically surviving beyond 1917, but numerous valuable ideals can be gleaned from these
communal innovators, and their priorities reverberate ever more powerfully in our fast-paced,
technologically driven, consumer oriented 21st century world.
Works Cited
Dube, Wolf-Dieter. The Expressionists. London: Thames and Hudson, 1972.
Higgins, Kathleen Marie. Nietzsche’s Zarathustra.. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Müller, Hedwig. Mary Wigman: Leben und Werk der großen Tänzerin. Berlin: Quadriga
Verlag, 1986.
Müller, Hedwig and Patricia Stöckemann. Jeder Mensch ist ein Tänzer. Gießen: Anabas
Verlag, 1993.
Sorell, Walter. Dance in its Time. New York: Columbia University Press, 1981.
Wolfensberger, Giorgio J. Suzanne Perrottet: Ein Bewegtes Leben.. Bern: Benteli Verlag,
1987.
Dr. Sydney Norton carries a Ph.D. in German literature from the University of Minnesota at
Minneapolis. She has studied and conducted research at the Free University of Berlin and
Berlin’s Academy of the Arts. The first chapter of her doctoral dissertation, Modernity in
Motion: The Performance Art of Mary Wigman and Valeska Gert in the Weimar Republic"
discusses the intentional communities of Hellerau and Monte Verita, and their lasting
influences on German artistic movements in the 1920s. This work is currently being revised
for publication. Dr. Norton currently resides in St. Louis and teaches at McKendree College.
The Meaning of Herrnhaag
An 18th century Moravian Community And
The Hermitage, Its 21st Century Successor
Bros. Christian and Johannes Zinzendorf
The Hermitage
RD 1 Box 149
Pitman, Pennsylvania&;;17964
USA
www.ic.org/thehermitage/
Part I
Hello, I'm Bro. Johannes Zinzendorf and this is Bro. Christian Zinzendorf. We're here
today to tell you about the Hermitage, a community in central Pennsylvania that has been
established for nearly thirteen years. To date, we are the first and still only permanent
residents of the community.
I'm going to talk about the history and purpose of the community. Then Bro.
Christian will present a slide show about the community. Finally, there will be time for
questions and answers.
First, the Hermitage is a retreat center, a working 63-acre farm, a collection of
historical buildings and a place where queer academicians, students and can come to
contemplate the meaning of their existence.
The story of the Hermitage really cannot be separated from the story of Christian and
myself. We met as college students in Salt Lake City, Utah. We moved in together and lived a
typical life of urban gay men: the tastefully decorated apartment, professional careers - I as an
educational psychologist, he as a teacher - upward mobility. But it wasn't enough. Something
was lacking.
We were drawn to the land. We were also drawn to the communalism of the early
Mormons. But their theocracy was not our theocracy. We yearned for something different.
We moved east to Pennsylvania and settled in Bethlehem, a town settled in the 1740s by
Moravians, or Herrnhutters as they are often called in Europe.
We were looking for something. It involved self-sufficiency; it involved a family of
choice, of gay men living and loving together. We looked for historical examples, a format, a
blueprint, guidance. We thought about a gay Scottish clan. We even had our own tartan. We
joined the Radical Faerie movement for a while. That was important because it gave a feeling
that spirituality and sexuality can be combined. It also emphasized the importance of the
feminine in spirituality, particularly as a Mother Goddess, as Mother Earth.
But the faeries were anarchists, by definition formless, and many of them just seemed
like urban fags looking for exciting weekends in the country. We needed structure. We needed
form. And we found it in the early Moravians who built Bethlehem. Indeed, it was the
buildings that attracted us first: magnificent two and three story stone structures with a Old
World beauty we'd never seen before; true Germanic Renaissance architecture. In 18th century
Pennsylvania.
We started studying the people who made these structures. Bethlehem was a
commune; with people living together according to gender and age in large dormitories. They
were self-sufficient in many ways, with a large farming operation, for example. But they were
also cultured. They had resident painters, composers, musicians. Chamber music was played
in the 1750s in the middle of the vast Pennsylvania wilderness.
All of this appealed to us, especially the guys living together in their own Single
Brethren's house.
They had their own leader, Christian Renatus Zinzendorf, the only son of Moravian
leader Count Nicholas Zinzendorf to reach maturity. It was obvious the men idolized
Christian. But the more I tried to find out about him, the more puzzled I became. There was
little about him in English and what there was always critical: he was a momma's boy; spoiled;
petulant; spent too much time among women; didn't get out enough with the guys; had his
own band of secret admirers, his Little Sweethearts as they were called; and he had a
particular favorite. Was this guy gay or what?
The more questions I asked, the more stymied I was by the lack of information about
this particular period of Moravian history, the 1740s to early 1750s. Something happened
then that no one wanted to talk about directly. There were only rumors, innuendo. Something
happened that official church history would prefer to ignore and hope it would go away. I
was a reporter. I smelled a good story. What happened in Europe and American Moravian
communities that so frightened, shamed and/or embarrassed the church authorities that they
tried to suppress it? There was a two and a half century spin operation going on here which I
was dying to open up.
Practically all the documents from that time were in German manuscripts and I had
made an enemy of the Bethlehem Moravian Archivist who was as determined to keep me
from discovering the truth as I was about finding it.
What I am about to tell you is not considered factual by official Moravian historians.
They consider it fantasy, projection and/or outright fabrication and distortion of history.
This story is my interpretation of what happened, based upon the few facts I've been
able to gather, based upon reading between the lines of Moravian apologists, and based upon a
great deal of contemplation and thought.
I put great emphasis upon the name Christian Renatus, Christ Returns in Latin. All
Moravian historians I know put no significance upon it. To them, the name is nothing more
than Jack or Tom. It's just a name and nothing more. But to me it indicates Christian was
indeed looked upon, beginning with his parents, as the returned Christ, as a divinity, a god.
This actually was not that unusual for the times and certainly not within the frame of
Pietism. Both Christian's father and mother were Pietists. To me, the most important aspect
of Pietism is its emphasis on the indwelling of the divine, of the spirit speaking and acting
through each individual, especially those who actively listen for it and cultivate it. Quaker
leader George Fox certainly believed in this aspect of Pietism. So did Shaker founder Mother
Ann Lee who said she was the returned feminine of Christ.
What this says is that those who walk in the footsteps of Christ become Christ, just
as those who walk in the footsteps of Buddha become the Buddha. In the Old Testament,
God is a father who dwells in up in Heaven. In the New Testament, he achieves
consummation with the Virgin Mary and becomes his own son, Jesus, half-god and half-man.
But now, in the early 18th century, we have a man and wife, Count Nicholas
Zinzendorf and Countess Erdmuthe, who say they have given birth to the returned Christ and
recognize him as such by his name. Two human beings giving birth to a fully human yet divine
god. One can trace the line from being pure spirit, to half spirit-half flesh, to being completely
flesh. Either the divine is becoming human or humans are becoming God. This is evolution in a
spiritual sense.
Nicholas even commanded a city be built based on the New Jerusalem described in
Revelations. He called the place Herrnhaag, God's Grove. Here, finally, the returned and
restored Christ would live and walk among his people as the Bible predicted and as Christians
had been waiting for millennia.
The promise of scripture was fulfilled in this fully-human god walking around in
Germany. A young man, a beautiful young man, who was probably everything his critics said:
he was vain, self-centered, egotistical, spoiled, a momma's boy and, in modern terms, a faggot.
Yet if he says he's the divine Bridegroom and you are his Bride, if he is going to cover
you with kisses and enter you and fill you, that takes on a new meaning when we're dealing
with a real person and not just a concept or a non-corporeal being. Kiss me on the lips,
Christian Renatus, fill me with your love.
I think Christian Renatus took this literally. To him it was not metaphor at all. There
was no need for metaphor when you've got the real thing. Come unto me, he said. Come in
me.
So here we have a hot young man/god with guys literally collapsing around him from
love for him. The passion and energy were that great. Spirituality and sexuality blending into
the same thing, a true unity.
But wait, there's more! With all of this going on, which alone was enough to change the
course of history, Christian and his followers began recognizing the Holy Spirit as a mother,
indeed, his own mother, Erdmuthe. For the first time in Christianity, the feminine enters the
godhead, not just observing it from the side. There are great festivals held in her name in
Moravian communities on both sides of the Atlantic. But who could this mother be if not
Countess Erdmuthe? Is she not truly the Mother of God? And if she is the mother, then
Count Nicholas must be God the Father. And what about their daughter Benigna? I see her as
Sophia, the Pietists' goddess of wisdom.
Here for the first time in Christian history, we see nothing less than the incarnation of
the nuclear family: father, mother, son, daughter. Perhaps we've been doing that all along and
just never recognized it seeing how religions just get it in bits and pieces.
This is a truly remarkable moment not just in Moravian history, not just in Christian
history, but in world history as well.
Yet, socially and politically the Moravians were in a difficult situation in Germany.
They were exiles living on land owned by Zinzendorf in Saxony. Being outsiders from what is
now the Czech Republic, they were greeted with suspicion. Germany had undergone a
centuries-long psychic split between Catholicism and Lutheranism. Now here is yet another
religion in a different language whose founder, Jan Huss, predates Luther by a hundred years.
While they had the full support of Zinzendorf, the politics of the time left the final
say in the hands of the princes who controlled the bits and pieces of modern Germany. Your
life was at the beck and call of someone who could turn against you at any moment. The
Moravian leaders around Zinzendorf knew this. They knew any scandal could drive them into
further exile, losing all they had built.
They were concerned, even desperate, to avoid scandal and even the hint of scandal.
They countered every rumor and tract published against them and Christian Renatus having
ritual sex with his sweethearts was definitely not making things easier. Sucking on the sacred
Side Wound of Christ as a little maggot is easier to take when it's a metaphor rather than a
blow job.
Even within the Brethren, as they were called then, there was the eternal struggle
between dogmatic authoritarianism and individual inspiration. Those trying to keep the
community safe became increasingly desperate to convince Nicholas that what his son and
wife were doing could eventually destroy the church. They sought political and religious
accommodation with the surrounding communities and the government.
In addition, Christian and his followers were spending large sums of money on their
festivals and other events, money that could be spent on missionary and other efforts. In the
end, Christian was costing both money and credibility. And, I think, Nicholas was jealous and
envious of the adulation, the worship, of his son. He said the Father would be known through
the Son, but people weren't coming to him with praise; they were enthralled by Christian
Renatus. Nicholas was human, as was his son. His fatal flaw was not being able to surrender
control to his son. He wanted what his son had, so he destroyed him when he couldn't have it.
He didn't realize a stern, judgmental father can never be viewed the same way as a loving and
forgiving son. Respected, yes, but not loved.
So Nicholas was easy prey for those who wanted Christian out of the way. In his
anger and rage, Nicholas stripped Christian of his position as leader of the Single Brothers and
forced him to leave Herrnhaag and come live with him in London.
The result of this was the breaking of Christian's spirit. Nicholas certainly destroyed
his son spiritually and perhaps physically as well.
Christian did not survive long in London. He was dead by twenty-five. His mother
followed him within a few years. Herrnhaag was closed and its brothers were sent to
Pennsylvania and settled at a farming community already named for Christian,
Christiansbrunn, the Spring of Christian.
Initially Christian was to follow his brothers to the community in Pennsylvania where
he would led them in the New World. His death marked the end to an era in the Moravian
Church when the concept of god could be manifested in man.
What survived among the brothers was the belief that Christian's spirit remained in the
community's sacred spring and that by drinking it one took in Christian's life's blood. Divine
on earth in life, his brothers considered him to be divine in death in Heaven.
When the Moravian Archives were established in the 1760s, church leaders made sure
almost all of the incriminating manuscripts from the earlier period were burned. They purified
the church from what had happened, from the madness that had infected it. Almost nothing
was left that anyone could use against the church or to find out what really happened. The
community of Christiansbrunn didn't survive the 18th century before it was disbanded. All
sank into forgetfulness and a few vague footnotes, until there was us.
Part II
What finally developed from the blueprint of old Christiansbrunn was the creation of a
place which allows the brothers the freedom to step aside from the outside world and live in
the freedom of our own conscience, a place where we have control over our lives. That control
has shifted from society's norms to an internal searching and contemplation of the meaning of
our lives and how we can act upon that significance and live in harmony with it.
This journey has taken us beyond the traditional Judeo-Christian beliefs of our blood
families; in fact, it's taken us beyond the nuclear family into a family of choice. It's also taken
us to viewing the earth not as a place to conquer and master but as a planet to serve and care
for.
As a family of choice, we live equally with plants and animals and in stewardship for
its own sake, not for any promised or hoped-for reward or punishment in some mythical life
after this one. This is the life as lived in the peaceable garden that is the Hermitage, a life not
fitted for the many but for the few.
Maintaining such freedom requires self-sufficiency, contemplation and independence.
Everything around us, the buildings, furniture, gardens, reflects choice and hand work.
Initially we thought to duplicate the life style of our early brothers: farming with oxen,
lighting with tallow candles and even making cloth from flax. People came to visit, some came
to stay, but all left. Each disappointment in attracting people goaded us to try something
different. That didn't work? Well, try this! And this.
Every year our brochures and flyers were out of date almost as soon as we wrote
them. Our spirituality, a belief in life for its own sake, was alive and growing and changing in
us, just as we continued adding new buildings and waiting for the moment we knew would
come when, after building the Hermitage, a family of choice would come and live here.
But they didn't. And through this we discovered some truths about the public at large
and about our own lives: most people would rather live in the most destitute of conditions as
long as they are still part of the mainstream. They also need leaders to follow, either here on
earth or in their Heaven. They also don't tend to be introspective about society itself or even
their own lives. Finally, we learned that despite our hard work, it takes more than two people
to keep a community going.
Still, we continue. Our own conscience has dictated the lives of freedom we live, to
adapt what sustains us and to discard what crushes our spirits.
The pursuit of liberty and freedom as set down in the Declaration of Independence is
not a thing once sought and done. It is an endless process that has no end. If such questioning
and contemplation is not encouraged by society at large, then it merely becomes an institution
of laws and regulations removed from the needs of our daily lives. As a Quaker Pietist once
said, "The letter of the law killeth, but the Spirit giveth life." (Balby Advises, 1656).
Our traditional spirituality fell away in the face of loneliness, pain and suffering.
Though the law allows for our existence and beliefs, though we can be financially free to
pursue an alternate lifestyle, we've failed at getting people to make a prolonged emotional
investment in the Hermitage. They just don't want to come.
As artists create because they must, we have create a life based on the freedoms
William Penn offered when he established Pennsylvania as a place for the freedom of
conscience and a haven for those oppressed for their beliefs.
Yet what about our Moravian roots? Well, they have brought us where we are today.
Are we Moravians? No. Not if you consider Moravians to hold a specific set of Christian
beliefs and dogmas. In that sense, we're not spiritual people at all. But we have remained true
to that one branch of Moravianism, the one led by Christian, which said listen to your inner
voice, follow your inner path, that is the way. So, in that sense, we are very much Moravians.
Of course, it doesn't take a Moravian to say "To thine own self be true." It doesn't take
religion at all. It can simply take common sense.
Nonetheless, I've wanted to share with you how we have come to be where we are
today. It is a purely personal journey. Each of us has our own. It is certainly not a blueprint
or flight path. Any of us could have started out in the same spot and reached an entirely
different place from where we are. Obviously official Moravian history did just that. And I'm
not saying it's wrong and we're right. They interpret that period differently than we do. They
see it as an aberration, a lapse in understanding the nature of Christ and the role of the spirit in
everyday life. We see it as the fulfillment of scripture, but one that takes us far from where
we thought we would be. For, to us, Christian's life says that each of us is divine. That, yes,
we will die and, like him, there will be no resurrection. He did not return except in the hearts
of his brothers who did not forget him. The Moravian Church killed the Returned Christ who
came back and who was even recognized as such, but even that was not enough to save him
from envy, jealousy and fear.
Christian's message is simple: life is precious, it's meant to be worshipped for we all
die and beyond this place there is nothing. Christian can be redeemed only by recognizing his
pure humanity. Nicholas can be redeemed only by recognizing his. In forgiving him for being
human, we forgive ourselves as well.
Now, speaking for myself, I am saying that growth taken me to many different places
and through many lands I never dreamed existed as a youth. If, at any place along the way, I
had stopped and said, "Here it is. I've found truth," indeed, if I'd been successful at any place
along the path, I would have stopped in more ways than one. I would have turned to stone.
But I have kept following the dictates of my inner voice, my daemon as Socrates called
it, to the place where I am now, without roots, without dogma, following Heraclitus' everchanging stream, yet reasonably confident and secure within that flowing. Now I simply want
a chance to grow with others as they flow down their own streams. And that, to me, is the
meaning of the Hermitage. And the meaning of Herrnhaag as well.